Haunted
by EspoirDio
Summary: Taking place after the events at the grove, Carol decides to stay behind while Tyreese moves on to Terminus. She's trying to come to grips with all the trauma she's experienced recently. When she's re-united with Daryl again who is also struggling to keep his faith after the events at the prison and after Beth has been taken, how will their relationship develop?
1. Prologue

**A/N: Already started posting this over on ninelives but figured I could post it here too ;) This is gonna be very angsty so bear with me...I got intrigued by the theme of nightmares that I explored before and decided to dedicate a bigger, multi-chapter fic to it. I hope you'll enjoy it!**

 **Haunted**

Prologue:

Her head was pounding, her eyelids were heavy, and she couldn't remember the last time she'd had a decent night's sleep.

Nowadays it wasn't the walkers that startled Carol awake, it wasn't the shuffling of the dead that had her reaching for her knife, it was the humans that posed the real threat. The simplicity of the infected made them predictable and easy to deal with but there were insanities the human mind could conjure up that weren't as straight forward to combat.

Carol didn't consider herself to be an exception.

Over the last couple of months, she had done things that had her questioning her own sanity. Would her old self have even imagined killing and burning two people? Or shooting a little girl in the back of the head?

Her lips curled into a bitter smile.

No.

Back then her main concern had been how to become a better wife to Ed, how to change so he'd stop hurting her and their daughter. It was almost funny how simple these concerns seemed now. If she had known then what kind of things she was truly capable of, would she have taken her child and left? Or would she have lost her grip as well and killed Ed?

Evening settled around her and the grove continued to lie empty and deserted. It would've been peaceful, had there not been so many demons dancing around. Little blonde girls with flowers in their hair twirling around in the grass until their movements became clumsy, mechanical, inhuman. Their laughter turned to screeches, their pretty faces deformed into grimaces of the dead.

Carol blinked and slowly the image swam away.

Perhaps it would have been better to continue on to Terminus with Tyreese and Judith, in hopes that the company of people would chase those nightmares away? But she felt a sickening bond to the place where she had experienced her latest heartache and found it impossible to move on. More blonde girls she hadn't been able to protect. Perhaps it was only fair punishment that she was to remain with them now.

* * *

Just when her chin started to sag against her chest, the creaking of the makeshift fence jerked her awake again. It seemed like years since she had last heard such a sound. Wiping her eyes, she reached for her knife and pushed herself out of the old rocking chair. But when she peered out of the window there was no walker in sight.

Instead of feeling relief, she only tightened the grip on her knife and slowly stalked towards the hallway. The creaking of the door confirmed her suspicions and she pressed herself against the wall, holding her breath.

Someone had entered the house.

Carol closed her eyes and listened to light, quiet footsteps that clashed with heavy, pained breathing. They were injured, whoever they were. This would either make them an easy target or a supremely difficult one, as Carol knew it would be foolish to underestimate someone who was fighting for their life.

As the footsteps drew nearer, she pressed herself closer to the wall, hoping to use the shadows to her advantage. She counted inwardly and then lunged at the intruder, but the man was stronger and had her pinned down beneath his body within seconds.

Recognition struck.

"Daryl?" she asked incredulously. The man startled away from her as if he, too, had just seen a ghost.

"Ya almost killed me."

The familiarity of his voice tugged at her heart. When Rick had abandoned her at the side of the road she'd accepted that she'd never hear it again, would never have another opportunity to make him smile; and judging by the look in his eyes, the sheer relief and joy that shone through the mist of pain, he had reached the same conclusion. Instead of putting her at ease, however, his reaction only caused her to recoil at the risk of getting attached to him again.

"What do you expect?" she shot back, pulling herself to her feet so she could take a closer look.

His face was badly bruised and he was clutching his side and despite her best efforts and previous sentiments it was impossible not to care. Her eyes swept over his body once more, pondering if these injuries stemmed from the attack at the prison or if they could've been caused by walkers. But before he had the chance to answer, his laboured breathing reminded her of the urgency of the situation.

"Never mind…" she shook her head. "Let's get you patched up first."


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: I've previously posted some drabbles on AO3 and here exploring nightmares that Carol might have but always felt I could've done more with that...which is why it'll feature in this story now. Semi-graphic descriptions ahead. Let me know your thoughts!Thanks to darylldixonn for beta-ing! :)**

Chapter 1:

Carol carefully manoeuvred him to a sofa in a corner of the room. He sank down on it with a deep, exhausted sigh. She smiled mechanically following an old instinct that told her it was best to reassure him, before peering outside past the curtains to see if the sudden movement at the otherwise quiet grove had caught the attention of any nearby walkers.

"The fence is ridiculous…" he muttered, as if having read her thoughts "it'll only take a couple of them and before you know it they'll be banging at the door."

Her forehead creased into a frown while her eyes shifted back to his face. She knew that he was probably just worried for her safety and he'd never found it easy to express that. He was the kind of man who'd rather rebuild the fence himself than verbalise the concerns he might've had. But with everything that had taken place lately she felt the need to explain herself nonetheless.

"We found it like this. It's been quiet so far."

"Lucky," he nodded "we gotta take care of that."

The tiredness she'd felt before his arrival suddenly overwhelmed her. She didn't have the strength to fortify another place, to wait around nervously while someone she cared about went on a food run. For a few moments, for a little stretch of time at least she wanted to just _be_. But being was the kind of luxury one had to work hard for these days.

"Yes, we will." She forced a smile, knowing that she wouldn't fool him and quickly shifted her attention to his injuries.

"People," he answered her silent question.

She wanted to ask why but knew that no crime needed justification in the world they lived in now.

"How bad is it?" she inquired instead, brushing his hair out of his face so she could examine the cut on his forehead and the bruise that was beginning to grow more prominent around his eye.

"Is nothin'," he shrugged "I've had worse."

She nodded and smiled regretfully as this was not the first time she found herself in his words.

"Still…now is not the time to play hero. So let me take care of this."

He shrugged once more and glanced towards the window. Carol smiled to herself and let him, knowing that he would be more at ease this way.

Pushing her tiredness away, she got up from her place on the floor and busied herself heating up water. Once that was done, she grabbed a handful of flower petals that she had collected together with Mika and stored in a little bowl by the kitchen, and added that to the liquid.

Humming to herself she waited, inwardly counting the minutes, and then returned to the sofa.

"Hershel told me that warm water compresses mixed with calendula help with the swelling when you don't have ice packs available." She told him, dipping a rag into the water and then gently placing it onto his face.

Daryl only grunted and Carol assumed that it was too soon to expect any kind of emotional response from him. Not that she was willing to address or discover more about that particular loss either but she had chosen to honour Hershel by applying the methods he had taught her.

"What about your side? You haven't stopped clutching it since you got here."

"One of the pricks kicked me," Daryl grumbled in response "broke somethin', I reckon. It ain't as easily fixable as the rest with some water and herbs."

Once again Carol chose to ignore his lashing out and carefully moved a hand to the rim of his shirt instead.

"Can I?" she asked.

She always did and so did he. It was another mutual if silent agreement that permission was vital when it came to touches in more intimate places.

"Go ahead."

He removed his hand and watched her lift his shirt until the offending area became exposed. It was swollen and bruised. Smiling a little to cover up a grimace, Carol gingerly felt around to assess further damage that might have been caused.

"And which pricks did this?"

Daryl's lips momentarily tugged upwards into a smile. It was amusing when this soft-spoken woman used foul language.

"I don't know…just a bunch of assholes I ran into after I lost Beth."

The movements of her hands halted and she glanced up at him. "You were with Beth?"

"Yeah, after the prison…" he paused to gauge if she knew what had happened.

"I saw the fire." She nodded "Tyreese told me the rest."

"Mmh…we got split up. Beth and I ran away together…camped out for a couple of days…found shelter…"

His thoughts drifted back to the cabin, to the moonshine he could still taste on his tongue.

"The last place got overrun…we got split up too. I told her to meet me at the road but when I got there I just saw the backlights of a car…somebody took her."

"Were they the ones who did this to you? Did they see you?" Carol frowned.

"Nah," Daryl scoffed "they didn't stop for nothin'."

"Then who?"

"I started chasing the car, couldn't just let her go…it was stupid…" he angrily balled his hand into a fist "Just got tired in the end…blacked out at some junction…"

His eyes shifted towards the window, taking a sudden interest in the growing darkness, knowing that if she was to see him, it would be all too easy to deduct that he hadn't simply collapsed out of exhaustion.

To his relief she didn't seem interested in pursuing the matter further but gently prodded the bruised area once more.

"A rib's broken." She finally confirmed.

"Damn…" Daryl cursed, followed by a string of other choice words.

"You must've made them really angry."

"Nah…they're just pricks is all. Just like I said. They were like Merle…like my dad." He scoffed and turned his head away "Wanted me to join 'em…when I said I couldn't cause of Beth…"

"They weren't so pleased," Carol supplied, giving him a small smile.

"Took my bow and everythin'…" he muttered bitterly.

She nodded and allowed silence to settle over them once more. She knew how much that specific weapon meant to him and how hard he must've fought to get it back. He cared more about this one possession and the safety of the group than he'd ever care about his own well-being.

After a while, she reached out and squeezed his hand carefully.

"It needs to heal by itself though ice would've come in handy. I suppose a cold water compress will have to do the trick."

She tried her hand at another encouraging smile but only received a grunt and a nod in return.

"You have to try and take good, long breaths. It's a miracle you've even made it so far. The pain must be horrendous."

"I've had worse." He repeated, dragging up his shoulders like a child who didn't know what to do with itself.

She patted his hand and rose to her feet again, searching out the kitchen to fill a bowl with cold water this time. It had been fortunate that Tyreese had pumped some just before his departure but it didn't look like it would keep them for much longer either.

When she returned, Daryl had his eyes closed, and so she made an effort to lower the rag into the water as quietly as possible. Wringing it out, she then settled it carefully onto his exposed skin.

"Been thinkin'," he suddenly said and she almost startled, having expected him to have fallen asleep "you see those Terminus posters everywhere?"

"Mmh," she hummed, keeping focused on his chest.

"I reckon it's a trap. I reckon whoever took Beth brought her there."

"Do you want to check it out?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

"Gotta," he nodded "it's the only lead."

"Yeah," she smiled wistfully, her heart clenching at what was about to come next.

"Are you coming?"

"You should stay here for a bit, rest," she said evasively "those ribs will only get worse if you push yourself too far."

"Yeah," he brushed it off "but are you coming? You said Tyreese was here…who else?"

"Judith, Mika," she swallowed "Lizzie."

The last two names felt hollow on her tongue; empty shells for empty bodies.

 _Look at the flowers, Lizzie._

Her hand left the compress and settled over her mouth instead, trying to cover up the retching sound she was sure she had made.

"Then you gotta come," Daryl continued undeterred; perhaps she'd been silent, after all "they will have walked right into the trap. We gotta help them."

Her cheeks were forced into a smile that seemed to split them open. How could she possibly explain to him why she'd decided to never leave the grove? He surely knew by now what she had done to Karen and David. How would he ever forgive her if he learned the truth about Mika and Lizzie?

He was so selfless and kind-hearted that not for the first time she felt utterly unworthy of all the things he'd done for her in the past.

"I understand that you don't want to waste time," she eventually spoke, the words coming out more evenly than she felt "but if it's really a trap, you won't be of use to anyone if you come barging in with a broken rib. You take one hit and you're down."

"Alright," he sighed and if it hadn't been for the disappointed look in his eyes, she would've laughed at his huffy tone "guess I'm gonna rest then."

"Do that," she smiled softly "I'll keep an eye out for movement. Those assholes might've followed you."

"You think?" he glanced up at her and she shrugged.

"Why not? If they're like Merle, they'll be able to track you. And I don't suppose they let you go willingly once they were done?"

"Nah," he sighed, trying to push himself up on his elbows, clearly worried for her safety now.

"That's my point," she explained "so I'll keep watch while you sleep. If they come here, I'll need you to be well rested."

"Yeah…sure…" he replied reluctantly and sank back down on the sofa.

Carol leaned in to brush his hair out of his face once more and readjusted the compress around his eye and then shifted her position to be able to have a better view of the garden outside.

Despite his concern, he was asleep within minutes, his body clearly too worn out to put up much of a protest.

A deep, heavy sigh slipped past her lips and her hands started to shake. Everything hurt and everything was too much.

Someone seemed to tighten a grip around her lungs, squashing them until there wasn't enough oxygen left anymore, until her skull seemed to split open with the effort it took to keep being alive.

Another wave of nausea overwhelmed her, sent her tumbling off her chair and chasing down the hallway until she all but fell into the bathroom.

Her body was shaking, her chest heaving and every layer of clothing seemed too much. Fumbling for the edge of the sink, she pulled herself upright again and clumsily unbuttoned her shirt.

She needed water but didn't have the energy to backtrack to the kitchen now. Instead she peeled more fabric off her body, dropping it in a heap at her feet.

The person that was gazing back at her from the mirror looked gaunt and ragged, with bony shoulders and rings under her eyes. Her lips were chapped and dry and she futilely tried to moisten them with her tongue.

Her body lurched forward again and she sank her teeth into her lips, forcing herself not to make a sound. But this only pried a small piece of dry skin loose. She bit once more and tasted blood but didn't manage to get rid of it altogether.

Finally, she moved up a trembling hand and tugged it away. She had half expected to see a small trickle of blood but instead found a small but deep hole there, surely impossible to exist at such a location.

Taking another deep breath, she carefully let her tongue dart out to feel it but recoiled instantly when something pushed against it.

A worm had started its ascent from the hole. It wiggled and wobbled, trying to break free and then drew a slippery trail across her mouth.

Carol retched, loudly and forcefully, too frozen in terror to worry about Daryl now. When she opened her eyes again the worm was gone but peering out of the hole was the bud of a growing flower.

She trembled and quickly closed her lids again. Somewhere, her rational mind was yelling out to her.

 _It's only a dream, Sophia, there's no monster under your bed._

 _Only in mine._

And although it was difficult to convince herself now that there were no monsters, when the dead walked the face of the earth, she forced herself to open her eyes again.

No hole, no worm, no flower.

Only the echo of her beating heart.

For several minutes she remained hunched over the sink like that, trying to let the shock of the nightmare wear off. Then she wiped her forehead with the back of her hand and made her way slowly back to was still feeling faint, but most of the nausea had passed.

Daryl had remained fast asleep, wearing a peaceful expression that brought the first small smile to her face.

All that was left now was silence and the knowledge that she could never, ever divulge to anyone what she had done.

The dancing demon children were her only companions now.


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N: I realise it's been ages since I posted the last chapters. I figured I'd get a lot of writing done on my vacation...but...nothing has happened so far. I seem to have left Caryl and the Angst at home. But I don't wanna make you wait for another 2 weeks or so...so here's the next chapter. Would love to hear your thoughts!**

Chapter 2:

Dawn broke and drew him out of his slumber. The first ray of lights stole through the window and danced across his face. The warmth was satisfying, relaxing. It allowed him to remain in the half-drugged state before full wakefulness for just a moment longer.

Then the pain returned.

Daggers every time he took a breath. A burning when he tried to fill his lungs properly, followed by a heavy, sickening crushing sensation that extended to his ribs.

A pained sigh escaped his lips and he blinked his eyes open.

The sun was too bright now, only harsh and not warming. His body felt heavy with lingering fatigue.

Good thing he had stumbled across this house, he wouldn't have survived out there for much longer. Good thing he'd found Carol, too.

His eyes shifted towards her and he broke into a smile when he found her fast asleep in a rocking chair by his side. Apart from her hand which was clutching her knife even now, she seemed relaxed. Perhaps she had needed sleep as much as him.

Trying his best not to wake her, he sat up, grimacing at the pain that shot through his body once more. He carefully removed the compresses and slipped past her, searching the house for some water.

He finally found it in the kitchen and gave himself a break as well. It would be much too embarrassing to collapse and wake her like this. He stood there for several minutes, leaning onto the counter for support and watched how the sun rose through the tree tops, basking the grove in its light.

Collecting all the energy he had left, he began walking again. His steps were wobbly and every intake of breath sent a fresh stabbing pain through his body but he pressed on until his feet met with the grass outside.

The air was mild and smelled of pine trees; an almost soothing scent. Tiredly but determined he walked further until something caught his attention.

A set of graves close to the porch of the house.

Of course, nowadays that wasn't an unusual sight as humans continued to cling on to their rituals despite the fact that the dead had taken over the world.

But there was something quite poignant about the little shoes that were dangling from the wooden cross; enough to make him pause and stare.

His thoughts inevitably drifted back to the prison, to all the children they had taken in, to all the children they had lost. About lil-ass-kicker. Small, defenceless, scared. Entirely dependent on Tyreese now.

Had they made it to Terminus yet? Was it really a trap?

The pain that filled his chest this time didn't stem from the blow his ribs had taken. He blinked once, quickly, against the moisture in his eyes, thinking about the remarks Merle would've made if he would've caught him and directed his attention to the other graves.

His face morphed into a frown when he realised that the soil on two of them was fresh and soft, not cracked and brittle like the other ones.

His gaze drifted from them to the feeble fence and back towards the house where Carol was still asleep, as if trying to fill in the part of the story he had missed. And what he surmised was certainly enough to make him understand why Carol was so reluctant to head to Terminus with him.

She was tired; tired of settling down and being driven out again; tired of hoping and being disappointed; tired of losing people and digging graves.

He understood, of course, had felt the same hopelessness, the same weariness after the Governor had run them out of the prison. But he'd had Beth who had at first tried coaxing his feelings out of him until he had finally erupted, spewing his anger, his hurt and disappointment out like toxic waste that he couldn't bear to carry in his body for another second.

So perhaps that's what she needed as well. Perhaps he could be there to help her move on.

* * *

Inside the house, Carol suddenly awoke. Her head jerked up and her eyes instantly squinted against the sunlight that had invaded the room.

The first realisation that hit her was that she'd abandoned her vigil. Then her eyes, still trying to adjust to the light, instantly sought out Daryl but the sofa was deserted.

This information was enough to make her jump to her feet, slipping her knife out of its holster. No matter how much she'd been trying to fight it the previous day, she cared too much about him to remain detached. And if anything had happened to him under her watch.

She swallowed down the fear that was beginning to bubble up in her stomach. Her body was suddenly more alive than it had been in months, aching with the adrenaline that coursed through her so that when he suddenly appeared in the room, she all but sagged back into the rocking chair. Her hands were trembling badly and instead of feeling relieved, the need to cry almost overwhelmed her.

She couldn't do this anymore. Especially not with him.

"Ya alright?" he asked, perhaps sensing the fear that still seemed to cling to her body.

"Yes, just wondering where you'd gone."

"Needed to piss," he shrugged and almost chuckled when she grimaced "what?"

"Charming language," she pointed out unnecessarily and carefully slid the blade back into its holster.

"Well, it's hardly a rest room out there." He grinned and lowered himself onto the sofa.

"You should've woken me."

"I can handle myself," he commented, supporting his rib with one hand.

Suddenly, there were a thousand random, playful and entirely inappropriate comments she wanted to make. Comments that she might have made, had they still been at the prison and had their situation not changed so drastically.

But now she had to settle for a smile and a change of topic.

"You should get something to eat. Your body's going to need all the nourishment it can get to recover."

"Lost everything I had," he muttered begrudgingly "you have anything left?"

"Not much," she replied, reaching back to massage her neck that felt stiff from the awkward position she had slept in "I gave most of what I had left to Tyreese."

Daryl nodded, his gaze drifting back outside, past the graves and towards the forest.

"Hunting's out of the question," Carol interrupted sharply, having followed the direction of his glance "so is a food run. You're too injured and I won't leave you here alone."

"Then we're both going to starve." He frowned at her stubbornness.

But Carol, who had seen a beautiful blonde girl riding a deer in front of her mind's eye, ignored him.

"You've learned to trap too, haven't you?" she finally asked, blinking to chase the image away.

"Of course," he nodded, but the frown didn't leave his face "could take days though before we catch anything. There's no guarantee."

"It's still as good as it's going to get then, isn't it?" she challenged, arching an eyebrow and when he didn't argue she added "Until then you're going to get the rations I still have left."

"What about you?"

"Like I said," she shrugged, rising to her feet "you need it more while you're recovering. Now tell me how to build a trap."

He opened his mouth for a brief second but then decided that he could still make sure later that she'd get some food as well. So instead he began to explain.

"There are several types…gonna make a hole trap though cause it's the easiest. First, you gotta track the rabbit down, find its trail. Then you gonna dig a hole deep enough so it can't climb out anymore. You gonna collect small branches and put those over the hole, then find little twigs and put those across the branches in the opposite direction. Then all you gotta do is find some leaves and make sure the hole isn't visible. You make sure you mark the location and you move on."

Carol nodded, listening intently.

"The other kinda trap is a snare. You can use some of that bullshit fence to make a loop. Find another trail and fasten the loop to some roots or a tree stump. Trouble is, if it isn't secured properly the rabbit will escape."

"Got it," she nodded "how will I find a trail though?"

"You keep ya eyes on the ground until you spot a criss-crossing pattern. You'll see two smaller depression, then two larger ones in a horizontal line. Keep following the trail, make sure it's fresh."

"Alright, I'll try." She gave him a smile that wasn't entirely convincing and started heading towards the doorway where her backpack was resting against the wall.

"Droppings can help ya too. If they're still moist, they're fresh." He called after her and she waved her hand in acknowledgment "If you're not back by noon I'll come looking for ya."

His last words caught up with her just before she'd had the chance to open the door and she quickly doubled back, giving him a stern look.

"No, you'll stay here and rest. No matter how long it takes me."

Daryl's eyes narrowed and he scoffed.

"You're crazy."

A thin smile passed over her lips once more before she set off into the forest.

The quiet there was a welcome change at first. No-one there to ask her questions, no voices jarring her awake. Just the soft rustle of leaves in the wind.

But the girls refused to stay at the house in the grove and soon joined her, flittering through the trees, laughing, giggling.

 _Look mommy, I can make myself invisible too._

She squinted against the light that shone through the tree tops, trying to make out her daughter. But the light was blinding her, setting her cornea aflame until her steps became clumsy.

She staggered, trying to get her bearings but only found a root instead that sent her tumbling to the ground.

Beneath the leaves the earth was soft, moist, full of life.

Her body shook as her hands scooped up the soil, letting it dirty her hands, letting something slick slip through her fingers.

 _It's alright. Everything works out the way it's supposed to._

And Carol smiled and hiccupped a chuckle while another tremor passed through her body. Her hands stopped digging and brushed her cheek on the way to her hair, leaving pebbles of dirt in the greying strands.

She had to keep moving, had to set the traps so she could return to Daryl, to check if he had faded away too.

Thinking of him seemed to help clear her mind and she continued walking, paying no attention to the ghosts that followed her.

When she finally found the trail she congratulated herself and built the traps as best as she could.

She even managed to ignore the child's torso half covered in leaves that was struggling to free itself from the snare she had set.

 _He wouldn't stop squeezing, mommy._

Her fingers closed so tightly around her knife that her knuckles turned white.

She was almost back at the house now, could see the hole she had left in the fence.

Her shoes broke twigs in two that set off a cacophony of crackles.

She was starting to take another step when a hand closed around her mouth, muffling her screams.

Someone was crushing her against his body; heavy breathing in her ear.

"We gotta go," Daryl's raspy voice whispered "they've found us."


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thanks for the follows. I'm glad that you seem to like it! I'm trying to get back into the swing of writing regularly now so here's chapter 3. :) Let me know your thoughts!**

Chapter 3:

His words rang in her ears yet they didn't seem to make sense. She simply couldn't or wouldn't realise the implications that came with them.

 _I've just set the traps_ , she thought, continuing to stare at the house that was no longer safe.

And even when Daryl's hand left her mouth and took hold of her own one instead, and even when they were stumbling and tripping through the forest did she refuse to accept the fresh loss she had just suffered. For now all her concentration and strength was required to bring as much distance between them and the "pricks" as he had called them.

Branches crackled and broke under their shoes and the sound of their arrhythmic breathing filled the air. They only stopped running when they emerged from the forest, their momentum propelling them forward so fast that they almost tripped over the old familiar train tracks. Gasping for air they remained there for a few moments, their lungs working hard to provide their bodies with enough oxygen.

When Carol looked up again, stemming her hands onto her hips, her eyes almost instantly landed on another sign that was pointing the way towards Terminus. The black lines on the map turned blurry in front of her eyes, making it seem for just a second as if the end points were moving back and forth, like tentacles searching for something. But when her vision became clearer she could see it again for what it really was: a giant web.

Then Daryl's laboured breathing suddenly required her attention. He still stood hunched over, one foot on the tracks, the other on the rocks, his arms wrapped around his middle as if he was trying to contain every breath that slipped past his mouth. His skin had taken on a sickeningly pale colour.

"Daryl?"

Her voice shook. His name stayed suspended in the air between them, a desperate plea for reassurance. But he failed to respond.

Dragging her feet forward, Carol bridged the gap between them and took his hands, prying them off of his body. The warmth of his skin calmed her, reminded her that he was still alive.

"You need to rest somewhere," the sentence rushed out of her with enough urgency to make him look up.

Her fingers were curling around his now, asking him to hang on.

"No," he shook his head. He sounded breathless but his voice was comforting nonetheless. "We gotta keep going."

"Can you?" she challenged, a little harder perhaps than she had intended, tired of that drive to run and survive that everyone seemed to have. That she still had possessed a few weeks ago.

"Gotta," he replied matter-of-factly "you didn't hear 'em and like you said they're like Merle…like me. They can track. They can hunt. They found me then, they'll find me again."

Carol nodded briefly, glancing around to assess their options. Their fear had made them blaze a visible trail through the forest, as simple to follow as the rabbit trail she'd been searching for previously.

Ignorance and panic bred the easiest targets.

But she wouldn't allow Daryl to be caught with a noose around his neck.

It was almost laughable how easy it was to shrug off her detachment, to put someone else's needs before her own once more. It was easy enough to function. Coping, now that was an entirely different story.

"We should stick to the tracks," she finally decided "it's harder to follow us here."

His eyes narrowed momentarily and she knew that he was thinking what had occurred to her as well; that following the railroad meant staying exposed for a long stretch of time.

"If they're following our trail," she continued "they'll be behind us until they catch up. They won't overtake us or sneak up on us from the sides. So we keep to the tracks, we don't leave prints in the earth and we keep going until we find an abandoned building."

"Then what?" he frowned.

"Then we rest," she repeated firmly, ignoring the scoffing sound he made "I can't lose you."

His eyes briefly darted up to meet hers, widening as they had previously done when she'd made a similar admission. It was a bittersweet feeling to see that despite all the lives he had saved and all the good things he had done, he could still feel wonder at the sentiment.

She didn't know the details of his life before the outbreak but had gathered enough to realise that he'd probably never fully believe that someone could care about him.

Spurred on by this, she slipped her backpack off his shoulder to carry the weight herself and gave him a gentle nudge.

"Let's go."

"Alright," he nodded and pushed himself forward.

Inside his head he could hear Merle mocking him.

 _What a pussy you are, Darleena._

 _Letting some bitch carry the pack._

 _You're not turning sentimental, are you?_

 _Shut up!_ He bit back but continued staggering along the railroad with as little help from her as possible.

He didn't need Merle to tell him that getting attached during a zombie apocalypse wasn't exactly a clever thing to do. But it was already too late. His fate had been sealed when he had carried her limp body out of the tombs of the prison.

He chortled inwardly. Who was he kidding?

He'd grown attached much sooner than that.

"Daryl?" Her voice drew him out of his thoughts and he hummed in response. "You said that they're like Merle, like your dad…" she hesitated "like you…"

"Yeah," he nodded, focusing on the steel of the tracks instead of on her "told you they were trying to win me over. Were talking in the same bullshit way Merle always used to. All entitled…like this world was made for us. Like everyone else finally got what was coming to them."

 _Rich Bitch._

His mind flashed back to the country club. To his anger, his rage. To Beth.

"Everything that's left now…it belongs to them. They take what they want and get rid of whoever's too weak."

"That's what I thought," Carol acknowledged, wearing that indecipherable smile that could drive him insane at times.

"What?" he frowned.

"You're not them, Daryl," she smiled again, softer this time "you're not Merle, you're not your dad, you're your own person."

"They're just familiar, is all." He muttered, shrugging off her compliment.

"There's still a difference," she insisted and then grew quiet again as they continued walking.

As the sun changed its position in the sky Daryl's breathing grew shallower and his steps became less coordinated. They had passed a series of buildings already but had dismissed all of them.

The first one had been too obvious of a choice and the second had smashed in windows which had deemed it unsafe. There were other threats to worry about still. And neither of them knew whether to grow concerned about the lack of walkers they had encountered or not.

"This one," Carol abruptly stopped and pointed.

Daryl kept walking a few paces further and then looked up. His head was woozy and he could really only make out the shape of the building.

"Doors and windows are boarded shut but we can use that to our advantage. Find a way in and keep everyone else out with minimal effort."

"Alright…" he agreed tiredly, swaying on his feet.

He really couldn't afford to argue now. He didn't have anything left to give. His body was heavy, his chest aching, torn apart by every breath he took.

His broken rib seemed to have shifted and was determined now to dig its way out of his skin. Looking down and feeling at it with his fingers he knew it wasn't true but rationalising didn't help take the pain away.

Her arm snaked around him and guided him towards the shade of the building. They had grown closer over a series of small touches so that every caress of her fingertips, every playful nudge communicated something.

That's why he let her guide him without comment or protest. The familiarity of her body grazing his own one ever so lightly and the scent that was purely Carol comforted him.

"I gotta…" he muttered but was unable to formulate what exactly it was that he had to do.

Instead his knees buckled and although she was trying to keep him upright his weight was too much for her to carry and so they both tumbled to the ground in front of the house.

He felt utterly humiliated but whatever self-deprecating thoughts that raced through his mind were soon shut out by the throbbing sensation and the sound of blood rushing in his ears.

Only when Carol sank down on her knees in front of him, did he realise that she was frantically addressing him.

Her name felt heavy on his lips and it was almost too difficult to lift his head. But he needed her to know that he was going to be alright even though he wasn't sure of that himself at the moment.

"Stay here…" she instructed, pressing something into his hand "be ready to defend yourself." It was her dagger.

He nodded weakly and watched her walk away.

Carol's heart was beating rapidly in her chest. She knew that it was vital now to secure the building and consequently provide him with a safe place to recover. But despite all the adrenalin surging through her body she couldn't shake the feeling that she was fighting a losing battle.

How much time had passed since they'd been forced to leave the grove? How much worse had his injury become?

All these thoughts accompanied her while she searched the building for an easy way in. In her desperation she even ran her hands over wood and stone, determined to tear the structure apart if necessary.

And finally she located an opening. It was nothing more than one of the boards shielding the backdoor that someone or something had already tried to loosen. But it was enough to get them inside.

Swinging the backpack from her shoulder she rummaged swiftly around until she located the item she'd been looking for. With all the power she still had left she used the other end of the hammer like a crowbar to pry the board away completely.

Setting it aside, she then ventured into the exposed building, wielding the hammer as a weapon rather than a tool now. But as she had hoped, there was no movement inside. Just darkness and stale air.

She dropped the backpack in a corner and hurried back outside to the front of the building where Daryl was still sitting in a heap on the ground.

But he was breathing and he was looking at her which was what mattered the most.

"Found a way in," she announced, simultaneously bending down to help him to his feet.

He was only capable of nodding; and leaning on her, followed her inside the house. There, she carefully lowered him to the floor again and made her way back to the door.

"I'll get rid of our footprints as best as I can. Then I'll come back."

He smiled at that. At her continuing determination and seemingly never-ending strength.

Had he been in a better state, he might've noticed the strain this whole world was taking on her and just how rundown she really looked.

He didn't know how much time passed until she returned. The darkness in his head had outweighed the darkness in the room and he had drifted off.

He faintly registered her telling him that she had wiped out the prints that were leading to the house as best as she could and that she had walked further on the tracks to make it seem as if they had continued towards Terminus, just in case their pursuers would be able to spot traces that she couldn't.

The next thing he heard was hammering, then more darkness followed.

One more time Daryl Dixon woke up that night. And this time he felt her body pressed to his,wrapped around him like a blanket. Her breathing sounded slow and steady but occasionally he could've sworn he heard the faint sound of her crying.

And although he wasn't a child anymore and although his father was long gone, it wasn't the first time that he wondered if a Cherokee rose could possibly bloom for him, too.


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thanks again for the follows and thanks for sticking with this.**

 **To the guest reviewer: I'm sorry if Daryl came across as a prick because that really wasn't my intention...I've never even considered him one. If anything, I'd understand it if Carol came across as a little...well...different here because she's more detached and struggling to connect. But I'm gonna be honest, I do struggle with writing Daryl and I totally appreciate your comment about him seeming out of character...I am trying to work on it.**

 **Anyway, thanks to the other story followers for sticking with this. I know that the angst can be a little bit difficult to bear at times and I am trying to add some bonding moments...but it would feel wrong as well if it'd suddenly turn all fluffy. I hope you understand! I'd still love to hear your thoughts though and any pointers that'll help me improve are always appreciated!**

Chapter 4:

The noise of rain mercilessly pelting the roof awoke Daryl from his deep slumber. It was odd to him that he had spent the second night in a row like this; completely out and unaware of his surroundings.

The realisation was worrying because he knew how vulnerable he had been and because it showed him just how deep his injuries ran.

His mind still felt foggy, one thought lazily chasing the other, interrupted by brief periods of darkness in which sleep overwhelmed him again. He was struggling to remember where he was. Where they'd found shelter.

Beth crossed his mind; their last hideout.

Contours and spaces of different buildings flashed through his brain while he was trying to categorise what lay in the past and what had happened recently.

And then, when everything started to become much clearer, he lost Beth a second time.

And Hershel.

Powerless and forced to watch.

Tears of frustration and exhaustion prickled behind his closed lids but he didn't allow them to break the dam. Beth wasn't lost yet, he could find her still and perhaps even make up for not being able to help Hershel.

When he finally did open his eyes, they started to ache. The whole building around him was dark except for one huge corridor of light that was bursting through one of the doors that hadn't been boarded shut.

He knew now where he was. Remembered gratefully that he wasn't completely alone. And when he focused very hard he could even still feel the weight of Carol's body pressed against his; her scent that seemed to cling to his neck where her face had been resting.

Why had she left?

He sat up abruptly and was instantly punished by a sharp pain in his side. Despite another full night's sleep his rib didn't seem to have benefited from the rest and was as sore and sensitive to movement as it had been before.

Gritting his teeth, he pushed himself upright nonetheless and slowly walked towards the opening. His eyes needed another moment to adjust to the light.

Outside, the rain had started to come down hard and heavy now which didn't seem to bother Carol.

"What are you doin'?" he called, with as strong of a voice as he could muster.

She turned surprised, her eyes sweeping up and down his body as if to assess the state he was in this morning.

"Collecting water," she then explained, holding up a bottle as if to prove a point, "we're running low and God knows when it'll rain again or we'll be lucky enough to scavenge some."

He nodded although he hadn't really been listening. His eyes still clung to her moist hair that the weather had dishevelled; to her sinewy arms that were covered in a thin film of water and to her top that hugged her body ever so slightly more now.

And for a split second it seemed like a perfectly good idea to barricade themselves back in the building and have her body pressed against his once more.

He watched her smile transform into a frown when he failed to comment and realised he'd been staring. Hurriedly averting his eyes, he tried focusing on the assortment of containers at her feet instead.

"I found them in the building and around the tracks. They used to be for paint so I let the rain wash out the remnants. I still wouldn't risk drinking from them but I thought we could use it to wash and to cool your injuries."

He instinctively touched his rib, had already forgotten about the bruises on his face.

"Alright," he then nodded and went to pick one of them up.

He ignored Carol's protest and the stabbing pain in his side that instantly increased and carried the water back inside the building.

She followed him a couple of moments later, setting down the water bottles and starting to loosely board up the door once again.

"Was stupid going out by yourself," he scolded her, keeping his eyes glued to her back, "the rain could've disguised the sound of their footsteps. They could've taken you down in an instant."

"But they didn't." She looked over her shoulder to smile at him. "Only a couple of walkers showed up. But uncoordinated movement and wet tracks didn't exactly work in their favour."

She sounded relieved and he nodded.

They both fell silent while Carol continued to shut off the doorway. When the board was somewhat attached again but loose enough to let some light slipping through the cracks, she joined him and handed him a water bottle. He took it wordlessly and took a quick swig.

"If you're in no hurry, I'm going to wash first." She then said, closing her hand around the handle of one of the containers.

"Go ahead," he hummed.

He'd endured enough hunting trips with Merle and his dad where they had camped out in the wild with no hot water or fancy shampoos to make him miss these comforts less than the average person. As a matter of fact, he only realised then that some time had passed since the last hot shower at the prison.

"You're even quieter than usual today," Carol remarked and he shifted his attention back to her.

She had retreated to another corner of the room and started to peel off her wet coat.

"Just thinkin'," he shrugged and tried to get into a more comfortable position.

"I gathered that much," she grinned amused and turned her back to him again.

He tried averting his eyes, tried to be a gentleman for her sake, but somehow they kept flickering back to her.

Her top was the next thing to go, followed by her bra.

He made another conscious effort at looking elsewhere but the pull of her exposed body was too much to resist. He hadn't seen as much of her in all the time that they'd been on the road together. Silently he shifted to his side, propping himself up on one elbow and resting his head in his hand.

He couldn't see very much but every now and again when she moved and bent down to scoop up some water, the half-darkness of the building rewarded him with glimpses of her bare flesh.

His eyes traced the contours of her body, wondering – not for the first time – if she like him had scars lining her skin. He wanted to touch her, needed to. Desired to explore every single inch of her body and kiss any mark that had made her the woman she was today.

Involuntarily, his thoughts drifted back to his brother.

Merle had never been shy around women. He had watched their father carefully and learned to imitate his dominant ways. But Daryl had never managed to be like that. He'd always been more about the observation than action. But even observing could be dangerous.

He had learned this lesson the hard way one summer when his brother had noticed him staring at a girl repeatedly. She'd been nothing like the women Merle usually spent his time with. This girl wore finer clothes and never even seemed to have a speck of dust on her. She was almost boring in her perfection but there had still been something that had drawn Daryl to her.

One day, when he had gotten back to the house, his brother had welcomed him with a broad grin on his face.

"Got a present for you, baby brother!" he announced.

And Daryl felt a sense of excitement until he entered the next room and found the girl tied to a chair.

"Ain't got no manners, this one." Merle said, still wearing that unbearable grin.

"Just let her go," Daryl tried but his brother only laughed.

"Why? I've seen you ogling her. You're hard for her but since you ain't got the balls to get her, your big brother helped you out."

Daryl was only capable of staring while the eyes of the poor girl darted through the room in absolute panic.

"Ya gotta thank me at least, Darleena." Merle snapped, his tone changing before he shoved him towards her.

When Daryl found his balance again, he muttered a few words of thanks and then busied himself untying her.

"No, no, no!" Merle laughed, "Come on now. I didn't catch her for nothin'! Let's have a little fun."

This time he got shoved aside so roughly that his head collided with the wall. Nausea rushed through him and by the time he had clambered back to his feet, Merle had pressed her against the wall.

"Come on now, princess, old Merle's never had any complaints before."

Daryl took a step forward but swayed on his feet while the girl fought hard to push his brother aside. She must've scratched him or kneed him or something because the next thing he knew was that Merle let out a yelp of pain. The girl tried to make a run for it but he caught her, smacking her harshly across the face.

"You think you can humiliate me, huh? You think you're better than us? Rich bitch!"

And he hit her again.

Daryl flung himself at him, knocking them both off their feet. In the squabble that followed, the girl slipped out and Merle punished him by kicking him repeatedly in the stomach, in the face, in every possible place that would inflict great pain.

When Daryl begun tasting blood and his vision was fading anew, Merle suddenly towered over him.

"This is the last time I'm getting you a woman, Darleena."

And he spat on the ground.

The splashing of water drew Daryl back to the present and he blinked. He knew that Merle would've wanted him to make a move. He would've wanted him to take what he desired. But Carol had been right. He wasn't like Merle, he was his own person.

Shifting to lie on his back, he let out a deep sigh and stretched out.

"Have you eaten yet?" he called after a while, still staring up at the ceiling.

"I wouldn't know what."

He heard the rustling of clothes and then her footsteps drawing closer. Droplets of water hit his bare arms and made him look up.

"I found some pecans back at the bungalow and stuffed them in your pack before I left. We could share 'em?"

He watched her swallow before she sank down next to him.

"Sure."

He could tell that she was reluctant but since he couldn't understand why, he reached for the backpack instead and withdrew a handful of nuts from the front pocket. Cracking two in his palm, he looked up at her again.

"Could use that hammer of yours."

She nodded and slowly pulled it loose from the belt she was wearing.

The buzzing in her ears had started again, triggered by the crackling of the shells when he had squeezed the nuts in his hand.

She knew he was still talking to her but couldn't make out another word. Instead the thud of the hammer as it landed on the remaining pecans reverberated through her.

Through the cracked shells she could see the rich meat of the nuts, red and fleshy. And when he pressed a couple of them into her hands, the fatty, bloody mass spilled out and onto her skin, tainting her again and exposing her for who she really was.

The buzzing in her ears increased and was only occasionally interrupted by the deep gulps of air she took in order to keep breathing.

Surely she was just dreaming again. Sitting perfectly still next to Daryl.

 _Invisible._

Surely she couldn't be the source of these deep panting sounds.

Her body shook and the nuts tumbled to the ground, painting it with splatters of red.

"You gotta breathe, you hear me?" his voice was in her ear again, low and breathless; comforting.

She felt his body now, his chest against her back, his arms around her middle. He was holding her again. Except this time he couldn't possibly know what he was protecting her from.

The scars around her heart tore open once more when the unwanted thoughts about her daughter infiltrated her mind.

Tears cooled her cheeks but didn't wash away the pain.

In the end the attack seemed to last forever, wearing her out until her body couldn't produce a single rapid breath. She was forced to inhale slower, trying to match the rhythm that Daryl's body was dictating.

He didn't let her go, not even when she sagged against him, utterly exhausted.

She thought about his rib fleetingly and how the pain must be killing him. But she was too tired to move.

"Don't you think it's time you talked about it?" he asked after a while.

She fought to keep her eyes open, tried to concentrate.

"About what?"

"Karen and David…what you did…at the prison." He sounded uncertain not accusing and she found some relief in that.

But her lids were growing heavy nonetheless and the image she had seen in the mirror at the grove flashed through her mind again.

 _You can't tell anyone, Carol._

 _Who'd believe you?_

 _Perhaps Sophia left her toys lying around again and you tripped._

"Nothing to talk about…" she whispered and fell asleep in his arms.


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: As usual...thanks for the follows and favourites! :)**

Chapter 5:

There was a throbbing behind her closed lids, as if she could feel all the little veins pulsing life through her. She tried opening her eyes for a tiny fraction but the mixture of utter darkness and little specks of sunlight stung and made her dizzy, so she hurriedly closed them again.

Her breathing was heavy and far more difficult than before and she frowned in an effort to piece together what had happened last, before she had fallen asleep.

The memory of the panic attack didn't come easy and appeared in waves of physical sensations rather than images, as if her body had stored every tiny information about every ache it had suffered.

Then Daryl shifted in his sleep, muttering something incoherently and for the first time she became aware of his body behind hers. He knew now; he knew how broken she was, how tainted. But he also didn't know everything.

 _Our little secret._

She squeezed her eyes shut, her body tensing, anticipating something.

Another attack, perhaps.

Instead she felt a hand lightly caressing her, fingers weaving through her hair. A fleeting sensation that disappeared as quickly as it had come. And in the state she was in, Carol wasn't even sure if it had really happened, if Daryl had really touched her but even so she felt her body relax again.

It had been a while since anybody had touched her like this, with the intention to sooth her and care for her.

When Ed had touched her, softly like this – and yes, there had been times when he had done so – he'd always had an agenda. He needed a way to silence the fear inside her that might have caused her to call the police. Or he was feeling horny and figured if he tried it like this it would be easier to get her to comply. Either way, these moods never lasted long and sooner or later he always lost his patience.

But even the other men, the ones that hadn't been abusive, had always been blunt, clumsy and direct when it came to expressing what they wanted. Even Axel who she had laughed with in the end, hadn't exactly made a secret about his intentions.

The only one who had really ever made her believe that men could be tender and shy and a little bit self-conscious too, was Daryl. And so she hoped that she hadn't imagined this touch.

Taking another breath first, she carefully and very slowly started to turn. Her back brushed up against his chest and she halted once more, listening for any signs of him stirring, but he didn't move.

Perhaps she had imagined the gesture, after all.

Her curiosity not stilled, however, she continued to turn a little further and this time something else came in contact with her. It wasn't a piece of fabric or something soft; instead it felt warm and moist.

Frowning, she turned more, concerned that Daryl's injury might have got worse, while rationally knowing, of course, that a bleeding in his abdominal region couldn't possibly be the cause of the moisture she felt near her shoulder.

Her stomach clenched and her hand instinctively jerked down to grab her dagger but it wasn't there. With a growing wave of panic she remembered handing it to Daryl, as well as her hammer the previous night.

Now that there was no way out, she swung around to face the walker she'd been expecting but froze in horror when she was confronted with something much worse than that.

Daryl, still lying on his side, his body rigid, his mouth open in pain, while a continuous trail of blood trickled down from his eyes to his chin.

She screamed out in anguish and recoiled against the wall. Her back ached from the impact; she was suffocating from the smoke that originated from the fire she herself had lit. Sobs and yelps of pain intermingled. Her hands shielded her face. But through the gaps between her fingers she could still see Daryl's face shrivel away, smell his burning flesh.

She gagged.

Saw him reaching out to her, his skin scorching hers.

"Carol! Carol, did I startle you?"

She was being shaken by spasms, falling apart in front of his eyes and all he could do was hold on tighter to her, so that her chest was crushed against his.

He hadn't meant to scare her like that, hadn't meant to re-awaken the demons that seemed to chase her these days. His gesture, the light caress, had been intended to sooth her, to ease her broken body into even deeper sleep.

He'd seen Maggie do it to Glenn countless times, or Lori to Carl when he'd had a bad dream and now he'd been desperate to provide her with such comfort as well.

But instead the sleepy look in her blue eyes had been replaced with one of sheer terror.

He shook her, a little harshly perhaps, in his desperation to bring her back and eventually her screams subsided until she was only panting against his chest.

"Are you alright?" he carefully began rubbing her back in smalls circles, the movements a little awkward because he wasn't used to comforting someone like this, or being comforted in this manner.

Beth had been so good at it; emotions had just naturally spilled out of her as if she'd never had to second guess them. He wanted to be that person for Carol but found it far more difficult.

"Ya gotta let 'em go…Karen and David…the prison…" he tried gently, murmuring into her hair, "don't let 'em consume you."

 _Too late._

Her lips painted a sad curve against his chest.

"It's not them…" she replied, her voice still hoarse from screaming.

"Then what is it? What happened at the grove, Carol?"

His questions, asked with quiet intensity, seemed to pierce her skin, shred away flesh until he surely could also see the little girls that were inhabiting her body.

The bloodied faces, the burned limbs.

She shivered and pushed away from him, gaining a shaky balance on her feet.

"Nothing…it's not them," she repeated.

 _It's me._

"Ya gotta…" Daryl tried a second time but she shook her head so fiercely that she nearly stumbled over.

"No! I don't have to do anything, Daryl! Stop making assumptions! It's you who needs to talk about the things that bother you, not me! It won't help!" she snapped and bent down to snatch up her pack and the hammer that was still lying next to the little pile of discarded pecans.

"Where are you going?" he asked, clambering to his feet as well, feeling a sudden sharp pain shooting through his body.

His ribs were throbbing again. He hadn't noticed it before.

"On a run," she shrugged, turning towards the door to pry the board loose, "you want to get to Terminus and you're still injured. If you really want to make it we're going to need medicine and supplies."

"You're crazy," he muttered "your screams could've attracted a whole horde of walkers!"

"Then I'll deal with them!"

They both knew she was lying, that she wouldn't stand a chance against a group of infected and especially not in the weakened state she was in. But instead of stopping her, Daryl slowly sank back down to the ground again.

"Alright," he said quietly and resigned, "just be careful."

"I will," she nodded, slipped through the doorway and then boarded the entrance shut again from the other side so that Daryl was plunged into darkness once more.

Resting one hand on his broken rib, he ran his other through his hair and sighed.

She wasn't the same anymore, had changed so drastically that he was honestly frightened. If only he knew what it was that haunted her.

She'd seemed nervous and on edge from the first moment he had tumbled into the house at the grove. But he'd put it down to the general state of alertness all of them resided in since the outbreak. He had startled her, had brought bad news about another hostile group in the vicinity and put her permanently on the lookout now.

But it wasn't just that.

She seemed lost, always glancing over her shoulder for the shadows that were following her.

If only he could see them, too. Then he'd know how to protect her. But with this barbed wire around her it was impossible to get close enough to find out.

Still he felt it was the right thing to let her go. He'd recognised his own desire to run, as well as the need to stay active in her and knew that she would only deteriorate if he'd forced her to stay.

But he didn't like it.

Every moment that ticked by made him anxious and had him listening for the smallest of sounds. Eventually he began pacing up and down in the darkness of the building, holding her knife and tapping its blade against the palm of his hand in a steady rhythm.

* * *

Carol had allowed her feet to carry her further north on the train tracks. She had walked so fast and paid attention to so little else, that she was beginning to wonder now how far she had strayed from their hideout.

Guilt began bubbling up inside her for abandoning an injured friend when he was vulnerable to attack but she quickly silenced it and told herself instead that she was doing this run for his benefit, after all. He needed her to get to Terminus but they wouldn't make it if she didn't find the right supplies.

And so she pressed on, diving into abandoned buildings that had mostly been scavenged already or had nothing worth taking.

There were walkers, of course, but never a horde like Daryl had feared and Carol took them out as best as she could, wearing herself out in the process.

They came in all shapes and sizes, some more deformed than others, but they all looked familiar.

She could feel the old panic starting to rise up in her chest and stumbled under a train bridge towards the next building in sight. It was a large, run-down hall that Carol supposed could've been used for storing old parts or repairing trains.

The likelihood of finding supplies in there was limited and so she continued, sending little rocks tumbling down the tracks with every step she took.

Suddenly there was a noise, a deep raspy sound that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

She squinted, trying to make out where it was coming from. And then she saw him, impaled against the door of another building to her right.

Whoever had done this, had driven a stake through his throat in an effort to kill him. But Carol could see now that he hadn't succeeded.

The walker snarled again, reaching out for her and she paused, glancing up and down the tracks.

Should she continue or turn around and head back to Daryl before it became dark?

Her eyes fell on the walker again who was still tirelessly trying to free himself and in an attempt at salvaging a piece of herself, she carefully approached him, lifting her hammer to put him out of his misery.

She was a step away from him when she realised her mistake.

They weren't alone.

Behind him hands were pressing against the windows: little ones, big ones, all pale and corpse-like. Heads were bashing into the glass, nails were scraping, their voices growing louder.

And then, with a deafening crunch the building lost its battle, spewing one walker after the other outside.

Carol backed away and nearly fell, desperately searching for a hiding place.

* * *

Daryl stopped and then turned towards the boarded door, straining to listen, while water dripped down his arms. This time he'd heard something, he was sure of that. The voices grew louder, emanating from all around the house.

"Somebody's been here…"

Daryl forced himself out of his frozen state and stalked quietly over to the door, pressing himself against the wall so he wouldn't be seen.

"Hello?"

He held his breath, swallowed down the pain and didn't move an inch.

"Anyone in there? We just wanna say hello."

It was the leader of the group of pricks he'd encountered. A man they'd called Joe.

It wasn't surprising that they had found him again. Carol, in her hurry to leave, had no doubt left a trail behind, undoing the advantage that the rain had provided them with the previous day.

"Seems empty!" somebody else called.

"Mmh…I don't know…" the voice closest to him spoke again and Daryl caught a glimpse of Joe now, trying to peer inside. "Prints are fresh…can't have left long ago."

"Let's go then. We could catch 'em before sunset." Somebody else pitched in.

"I'm not so sure it's him," Joe repeated, "wait a minute. Only one set of prints this time…and they're smaller."

"I claim her!" the other voice shouted and somebody snickered.

Daryl's heart sank.

How late was it? How long had she been gone? What if she was too occupied to pay attention and stumbled upon the scene?

"You really think it's a woman?"

"Either that or a fag."

"That's more your taste then, isn't it?"

"Shut up, Dan or I'll rip you a new one!" the first voice growled while some others laughed.

"Alright…let's keep moving." Joe finally decided with a last look into the building, breaking up the fight that was threatening to break out. "The hunt's always been my favourite part."

Once their voices had subsided Daryl released the breath he'd been holding and scrambled around in the dark to locate the rest of his belongings.

He had to get to Carol first.


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6:

There was darkness all around her and outside the limbs of the dead kept pounding against the door. She had fought as many of them off as she could manage and had then squeezed herself through an opening inside the large abandoned hall, trying to stop the walkers from doing the same. It hadn't worked at first and a couple had followed her inside so she had barricaded herself inside the office, seeking safety under the large desk.

She hadn't moved an inch since then and the noises of the walkers hadn't subsided. They knew she was still in there, seemed determined to hold her cornered. She'd lost all feeling of time, was solely trapped in this world of darkness, banging limbs and snarling growls. The distant sound of rain added its own beat to the discord.

She didn't dare to move, not even to stretch her back to ease the agonising cramp that seemed to hold her shoulder-blade firmly lodged in place. Her chest frantically expanded against her drawn-up knees as if she had only just stopped running and liquid pain seemed to be flowing through her veins.

Carol regretted now that she hadn't even tried a handful of pecans which Daryl had offered to her the previous night because her stomach felt hollow and bare; a gaping hole in the middle of her body.

She'd never envisioned herself dying like this although the images had always changed. A lifetime ago when she'd still been with Ed, she'd often seen herself choked by his hands. This image had usually come as nothing more than a snapshot, a flash-like premonition whenever he'd been on a rampage again.

Or sometimes, when she'd lain awake at night she had pictured herself heroically protecting her daughter, confessing her love for her before she faded away.

Then, when the world had turned on its head, she'd dreamed about the camp being overrun. She'd thought about Sophia towering over her before sinking her teeth into her skin.

And then she'd thought about suicide.

But even when her worst fear had come true, her world had somehow kept turning. Until the virus…until the governor had brought it all to a grinding halt again. Then her dreams consisted of blood and burned flesh, of invisible threats concealed behind a false image of humanity. She'd seen herself choking again, on blood this time, or pierced by bullets.

She'd been afraid then. Afraid to see the disappointment in her daughter's eyes if they were to be reunited, afraid to witness more deaths of the people she called her family now.

What she'd never expected, however, was to burn but remain alive nonetheless. Or to be cornered by a horde of walkers who'd consume whatever was left of her. Now she wouldn't be selfless or heroic, terrified or protective. She'd only be the shell of a woman who was completely lost, reeking of murder and regret.

Perhaps it was better to go this way, after all. Every piece of skin devoured, every bone crunched so that nothing would be left behind to betray her actions. Nothing that would let the people she loved, that would allow Daryl to see who she had become.

A flash of blonde hair, a light giggle.

 _Are we playing hide and seek? I'm the best._

A lean but taller figure. Different eyes, a familiar smirk.

 _No, Mika is the best. I've made sure she's hidden. Can you find her?_

 _Not now._

Carol squeezed her eyes shut and reminded herself that she needed to think. She'd made a promise to Daryl and she wouldn't give up until she'd provided him with a fighting chance.

Finally, pushing herself away from under the table, she ignored the pain that instantly hit her body and began assessing the way out. There had to be something she could use to her advantage.

* * *

Daryl's shoulder harshly collided with the board that had once been a safety measure but now blocked his only way out. His body shook from the impact but he simply brushed over the sore area as if the gesture would be enough to wipe the pain away.

He didn't have any time left to dawdle or feel sorry for himself. This time he wasn't stuck in some muddy ditch or needed his big brother's encouragement. This time he kept fighting of his own accord.

Backing away again, he placed a hand over his broken rib and then charged at the board once more, this time kicking it with as much force as he could muster. The fresh pain that continued to well up through his torso was almost unbearable but his efforts had been worth it; the entrance was no longer barred.

Daryl allowed himself to savour the brief moment of triumph and then picked up the items he had gathered around him. Two water bottles were haphazardly stashed into his trouser pockets, along with a handful of the remaining pecans; the dagger he kept in his hand while he sprinted outside.

In passing he noticed the other prints that led back to the train tracks. Not slowing down, however, he changed direction and dove into the shade of the forest. Soon it would be evening, he knew, and the branches and bushes would provide him with even better cover.

He kept running for what felt like an eternity, his lungs on fire and his feet aching. The pain that was steadily emanating from his ribcage made him feel sick to his stomach but he pressed on, always squinting to follow the footprints, always listening out for the voices of the group.

Whenever he deemed it clear enough, he'd dart back out onto the tracks to make sure he hadn't missed her, read the routes that had carried her off-course and into abandoned buildings but in the end he always saw her returning to the path that the trains dictated.

And when the distance she had travelled began to worry him, the occasional walker bodies scattered around the tracks always brought him the reassurance he needed to believe that she was still alive.

The daylight faded and the air around him cooled down when he finally dared to overtake the group he'd been following closely so far. They'd shown signs of fatigue, had slowed down considerably and begun chatting more.

Trying to draw together the last shreds of energy he had left, he broke into a jog once more, flitting through the trees and out of sight before the noises of the broken branches could alert them to his presence. When he'd covered some distance, he sped up even more, slipping back out and onto the tracks when he couldn't hear or see the group behind him.

That's when the pain and the nausea he'd been trying to suppress caught up with him. He just managed to duck under a train bridge, when his body doubled over, forcing him to spit out what little bit of food he had consumed in the past few days. The taste of bile burned his throat while his skin broke into a cold sweat from the effort alone. His vision blurred briefly and then cleared again, giving him a moment to take in the scene in front of him. And even then he wasn't entirely certain if his eyes weren't just deceiving him.

A group of walkers tumbled across the train tracks, trying to join another group that was seemingly trying to enter a building. He didn't have to think twice to know that Carol was trapped in there.

Still, he remained hidden underneath the bridge, reaching for one of the water bottles and then took a quick swig. All the while his eyes were darting around, trying to figure out if there was a better way in than the direct approach. But there wasn't enough time to formulate a perfect plan. Not with Joe and his men breathing up his neck and not when he knew that the walkers could detect him any minute.

He yearned for his crossbow once more. With it he could've at least taken some of them out at a distance, rather than being forced to go in close for the kill.

Cursing, he strengthened his hold around the hilt of the dagger and crept slowly towards the building.

The walkers kept snarling and clawing at the windows and he carefully continued, moving around them at a safe distance.

Then the first infected turned, his movements slow and sluggish, but his face showing definite signs of detection. The dead eyes kept looking around, his chin lifted up, almost like a predator that was sniffing out his prey.

"Come on then," Daryl muttered under his breath, lifting the blade in the air without pouncing.

All the muscles in his body tensed, poised for attack he waited while the walker staggered towards him. Daryl's breath was coming in small puffs now and he dodged one swing of the walker's arms before pinning him to the tracks and driving the dagger into his skull.

The last angry snarl alerted several others of his kind and so Daryl quickly scrambled to his feet again. He couldn't possibly take all of them at once, but he didn't have the time to distract them either.

Panting heavily he stumbled forward, slashing away at as many of them as he could reach, while pushing the remaining ones that threatened to bite him as far away as possible.

But he didn't keep the upper hand for long. There were just too many of them and he begrudgingly came to realise that Carol had been right, he was in no shape to fight yet. His body was worn out and the pain was only causing him to move clumsier.

Another snarl and the stench of decaying breath near his nose caused him to duck and lose his footing so that he tumbled and collided with the side of the building. The impact of the concrete wall against his broken rib nearly knocked him unconscious. For a moment, the walkers were only a blur of shapes and he tried slashing at them with the dagger once more without ever hitting a single one.

"Piss off…" he panted, tears stinging in his eyes.

But of course they didn't listen. In fact, one of them seemed to take his cursing as an invitation to come closer.

Daryl tried reaching for his face, tried to pry his jaw open so that the sharp teeth couldn't sink into his flesh, but it was almost impossible. The walker pressed forward and forward and Daryl's strength was dwindling.

In the end, he closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable but the searing pain never came. Instead the walker let out an angry snarl and when Daryl still didn't feel the stab of teeth, he opened his eyes again.

The walker had collapsed at his side, a hammer driven permanently into his forehead. The image didn't make any sense at all and so for a second Daryl just kept staring at him dazed, before tilting his head to try and see where the hammer had come from.

The grey strands of hair caught his attention first, then the small hand that couldn't possibly have wielded the weapon with such force. He still remembered her clumsy attempts at shooting a gun.

"Daryl!" she gasped, squeezing the rest of her body through the opening, shocked to see him on the ground but at the same time not at all surprised to find him there.

"They're coming!" he replied, in the same rushed tone while trying to find balance on his feet again.

Carol shot a glance over her shoulder, then gave up her attempts at prying the hammer loose again and instead took his hand.

"Run!"

She tugged him along as they darted through the group of walkers, pushing and kicking at the bodies that threatened to devour them. She hadn't asked if he would manage and because of this assumption, this blind faith she seemed to have in him, Daryl found the strength to carry on.

He ignored the pain and the fatigue, and instead focused on her hand, small and fragile and yet capable of leading him with such force and determination.

They ran back into the forest, far away from the openness of the train tracks, no further explanations necessary as the main points had been relayed. Their chased breaths the only sound as the night grew colder around them.

"Stop!" Daryl eventually panted, casting a look backwards to see how far they'd come but in the darkness that surrounded them now everything looked the same. "I think that's far enough." Carol narrowed her eyes doubtfully and reluctantly released his hand when he doubled over in pain.

"I'm sorry." She watched his face twist into a grimace but kept her distance, afraid that she would only hurt him further. "It's my fault it isn't healing properly."

He glanced up at her with a pained frown. "What do you mean?"

"I didn't think when I left…I didn't think about the footprints…"

"They could've found us either way," he sighed, supporting his rib with one hand while trying to straighten up again.

"Yes but I know you Daryl! I knew that if I wasn't back in time you'd come looking for me…but I was so convinced that I wouldn't get myself into trouble…but then…" she stopped and gestured at his body instead as if it was enough to explain the rest.

"But then nothing," he insisted stubbornly, kicking some leaves away to clear up an area for them "ya made a mistake…we've all…"

"Yes but my mistakes keep getting people killed!" she yelled, feeling all the anguish she'd tried to contain seeping out of her body. If only she could swallow it up again so that nobody knew it had happened.

They locked eyes for a split-second and she felt herself burn under Daryl's concerned gaze. Of all the looks she'd ever wanted him to give her, pity hadn't been one of them.

"Let's just set up camp here…try and secure the area…" she muttered tiredly, turning her back on him.

"Carol," he tried and she could hear him taking a step towards her.

"You're right, Daryl, I do need to talk but now isn't the time."


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7:

Carol didn't sleep a wink that night although her tired body begged her to. Her thoughts were like a knotted mass that didn't allow for any more space in her brain. Everything twisted around itself, the same information over and over again with no new solutions in sight.

She felt restless and uneasy, stirring often when exhaustion threatened to drag her into oblivion. Every noise startled her. The soft rustling of leaves sounded like gunfire and the sigh of the wind between the trees reminded her of walker groans.

The earth they were sleeping on felt alive with movement. Ants were crawling into her shirt, burrowing their way under her skin to sleep nestled inside the corpses she still carried there.

"Get it together," she told herself, "don't wake him."

Her eyes slowly opened, peering into the dark, trying to make out if there were any figures moving about in the cover of the trees. But all was still.

She came to lie on her back once more, ignoring the shoulder-blade that ached in protest and urging herself to come up with a plan instead. There had to be a way to get them to Terminus while finding medical supplies along the way.

And food.

That definitely had to be on their list of priorities as well.

After a while, when her eyes started drifting shut again, an old familiar image appeared in front of her closed lids.

A web.

A web that she needed to find a way out of.

* * *

Dawn broke and awoke him from whatever little amount of sleep he had managed to get. It was as if his body had never stopped being alert, had expected a confrontation with Joe and his gang any minute.

He rolled on his side and a smile involuntarily crept onto his face when he spotted Carol next to him, curled up in a little ball, leaves and blades of grass entwined in her hair.

He resisted the urge to brush them away, remembering all too well the events of the previous day. But he was glad to see that she had managed to get some sleep, at least because if his body was any indication, they could both use any rest they could get.

As the sun slowly moved higher in the sky, Daryl reluctantly reached over and shook her carefully. She startled upright within seconds, frantically scanning the area for any attackers.

"Only me," his voice sounded raspy and hoarse and instinctively he reached down to his pants pocket to retrieve one of the water bottles he had stashed there but found none.

Frowning, he sat up too, feeling around in the dirt but eventually only discovered one. The other one must've gotten lost in the chase.

He cursed and rubbed his face.

"Your bruise?" Carol asked, misinterpreting the gesture and examining the mark around his eye that was just starting to fade.

"What? No…" he shook his head, looking up to make eye contact, "lost a bottle along the way. Sucks…supplies are already running so low."

She smiled compassionately and nodded. "We'll make it work."

He opened his mouth to ask her something but closed it again when he suddenly saw her wince.

"Are you hurt?"

"It's nothing," she shrugged, repeating the words he had said to her the first night at the grove, but the movement seemingly caused her more pain.

"Tell me…" he insisted gently, shifting closer.

"It's my own fault. I did something to my shoulder-blade yesterday when I was hiding from the horde. It doesn't feel right."

"Let me see." He suggested, motioning for her to turn around but she only frowned.

"We don't have time. We should get moving before it gets even lighter."

"Carol," he said more firmly this time, "if you think we have enough time to move slowly and to let me rest so that my rib's gonna heal, I think we have enough time for me to look at your injury."

"Fine…alright…" she sighed, reluctantly turning her back to him, "but only for a moment, then we start moving."

He didn't comment this time and instead carefully peeled off her coat. Underneath the remaining thin layer of clothing he could feel her flinch.

"I'm sorry if this is gonna hurt more now."

He rested his hand on her shoulder first to let her get used to his touch and then carefully shifted it lower.

"Can I?"

She swallowed and nodded. "Go ahead."

Nodding to himself as well as if to find some courage, he carefully spread his fingers so that his palm covered the entirety of her shoulder-blade.

"Painful?" he asked, instantly feeling stupid because the answer was an obvious one.

"Yes," she replied, getting his meaning, "more so than before."

"Feels intact though…just a little stiff. Maybe you moved it too much and strained it or it got shifted and then stayed at an uncomfortable angle."

"That's more likely," she explained, "I was hiding under a desk."

He could hear the embarrassment in her voice, as if this kind of behaviour just wasn't good enough for her anymore. He knew that it made her feel like the timid, nervous woman she had been under Ed's reign.

"Glad it kept you safe…" he muttered, unsure how else to express what he was thinking, "a strained shoulder-blade is a small price to pay. Could've been much worse."

"I know," she sighed deeply and he cursed inwardly.

He hadn't meant to make her feel even guiltier. Had instead been trying to express how relieved he was that she hadn't been injured more severely…or worse.

As the awkward silence grew between them, Daryl hurriedly lowered his hand to the hem of her shirt.

"Let me see if I can lower the pain a little at least?"

"Go ahead," she agreed and leant forward to give him easier access.

With a heart that suddenly seemed to be beating in his throat, he lifted up her shirt and allowed his hand to come in contact with her skin. It felt softer than he had ever imagined.

Pausing for a moment to gauge her reaction he then carefully moved higher, grazing more skin along the way. She felt warm and alive and the quickening of her breathing had to be an indication that she was excited by this as well.

Or was she just nervous?

Afraid even?

If only he could find some of Merle's bravado and stop second-guessing all the time.

"Tell me if it hurts too much, alright?" he mumbled.

"I will…" she nodded once more.

Taking a deep breath he began to caress the area around her shoulder-blade ever so gently, trying to ignore the fabric of her bra that kept brushing up against his hand.

"Mmh…" she sighed, "a little more…"

He hummed and applied more pressure, massaging away all the tension he encountered.

Clearly enjoying his admissions, Carol eventually leaned more into his touch and unbeknownst to either of them, they had both started remembering one evening at the prison that now seemed an eternity ago.

He had massaged her too then, trying to get a kink out of her shoulder that she had suffered from the backlash of one of the guns. It had been the first time that he had initiated physical contact like this. Before then it had always been her taking care of him, chasing his pain away with a soft caress or a soothing kiss on the forehead.

But that time it had been all him and he'd been surprised at her reaction, not shy and a little bit uncertain but welcoming and even flirtatious?

Her comments had taken him so off guard at least that he had responded with a knee-jerk rejecting response. Nonetheless, his shyness had been all too painfully obvious.

But while Carol's lips curled into a smile at the memory, Daryl's heart grew heavy and he exhaled deeply across her skin. The sensation caused the little hairs on her back to stand on end but he was too preoccupied to notice.

His thoughts once more lingered on the change she had undergone and of how much they had lost since that happier time at the prison. He knew that neither one of them would feel comfortable enough to engage in such light banter in the near future as well as he knew that dwelling on those days wouldn't do much to help him…and yet…

He missed the strong, caring woman who had been so openly devoted to everyone's well-being and so surprisingly quick at times to lovingly tease him.

"Are ya gonna be okay?" he asked, the words out of his mouth before he could take them back.

"Yes," she nodded, sighing softly again, "like you said it isn't badly injured. I'm sure it'll be fine."

"That's not what I meant," he explained carefully, "ya said last night that it wasn't the right time to talk. But will it ever be? Will you really be alright without talking?"

He could feel her tense beneath his hands.

"I won't feel like talking if you keep badgering me into it." She finally responded tersely and he gave her shoulder a little squeeze to let her know he meant no harm.

"You won't feel like talking if I don't do it either. Carol, I've been on this crazy ride with you since the beginning. I've lost people too! I know what it feels like!"

He had expected her to yell back, had prepared himself for the situation escalating quickly but she only nodded and rose to her feet.

"Then you shouldn't be with me. Nobody should be. It's not safe."

She started to bent down and scoop up her backpack when he caught her wrist and carefully tugged her closer against his body.

"I've never felt unsafe in your presence. How can I?" he smiled, "All you've ever done was look after me. Whatever you did at the prison…however wrong it was, I know you did it because you were trying to protect the group."

They held eye contact for quite some time and he could finally see the wall around her start to crumble. It wasn't completely gone and he knew that he hadn't discovered all of the darkness she carried around these days, but he had managed to win back a piece of her.

By the stunned silence and the way she repeatedly blinked away her tears he could see that she didn't know how to react or what to say and so he took a step back, letting go of her wrist.

"Is ya shoulder good enough to travel again?"

She looked perplexed for a second at this sudden change of topic, then smiled gratefully and nodded. "Yes, actually I've got a plan."

"That's a relief because I'm still clueless," he grinned, trying to further lighten the mood.

"I need to head back to the train tracks…"

"I thought we'd agreed that that's not a good idea what with Joe and his guys lurking nearby?"

"I still agree," she answered patiently, "all I want is one of those Terminus maps. On it are all the possible routes to our destination, plus all the other little cities and stations nearby. It's our best shot at finding a way that won't have us cross paths with those men again and find some supplies along the way."

"But if we start going now we won't have to waste time. I'm sure we'll find a route either way."

"Maybe," she acknowledged and then added, "or maybe by the time we've reached Terminus it'll be too late." She felt guilty for persuading him like this.

"Alright…" he rolled his eyes, "tell me one thing though."

"Mmh?" she arched an eyebrow.

"Why does it have to be you heading back to the tracks? Why can't it be me?"

He hated how childish he sounded.

"Because I'm the one with a strained shoulder and you're the one with a broken rib. Even with a map to guide us today will be exhausting and I want you to get as much rest as you can."

"You'll take the dagger." He interrupted her, holding it out to her and finally – when she started waving him off – he pushed it into her hand.

This time it was her turn to roll her eyes.

"I'll be back as soon as possible."

He watched her leave for the second time in 24 hours and felt the same sense of restlessness. He couldn't remember how long it had taken them from the train tracks to their current location but it still felt as if hours passed until she returned.

There was fresh blood glistening on the blade and her hair was more dishevelled than before. At least he had made the right decision when he had forced the weapon onto her.

"Here we go. I reckon Billingwood is our best shot." She explained, spreading out the map in front of him. "It's smaller than Payne but chances are we'll encounter fewer walkers and that the city will have been pillaged less."

"Alright," he agreed, taking the map from her and standing up straight, "let's go."


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8:

They kept walking away from the train tracks and after a good while turned northwards. A detour on their path to Terminus, they both knew, but a necessary one nonetheless. Their progress was slow but steady, allowing them to recover some of the energy they had lost the previous day.

They shared the remaining water bottle between them and every now and again Carol made sure that Daryl ate a handful of the nuts that they had left. He didn't force them onto her and she was silently grateful, knowing that she couldn't afford another episode that would cause her to be a liability again.

After an hour or so in which they'd largely been silent and lost in thoughts, Daryl spoke up.

"How far do ya think it is?"

Carol hummed and held out her hand so he would give her the map.

"I don't know," she finally surmised, "it's difficult to guess. I've never been good at estimating distances. With a car?" she tilted her head to look at him, "Half an hour maybe. On foot? I…." she narrowed her eyes, trying to study the map more closely, "no…I don't know. Ed always said I was useless at this kind of stuff."

"Yeah well…he ain't so useful either." Daryl muttered under his breath.

"While that's true," Carol replied, giving him a small smile, "this is at least one fact he got right. I'm not very good at it."

"Ain't a very useful skill either way…" Daryl said, determined not to let it go and Carol almost chuckled at his stubbornness.

"Unless there's a zombie apocalypse." She commented with a grin and then winked at him.

He felt a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, felt a dizzying sensation in his stomach that hurriedly made him avert his eyes. It had been too long.

After a moment he found it safe enough to look at her again but snatched the map out of her hands before she could ask any awkward questions.

"Reckon you're right…about half an hour by car…that's maybe 20…25 miles? So 7…8 hours on foot? Means we could get there tonight."

"If we keep moving, if you're well enough and if we don't have any further run-ins with Joe's group or a bunch of walkers."

"Unlikely…" he mumbled, scanning the map once more.

"Unless we're lucky," Carol offered but he snorted.

"Don't believe in luck."

"I do…sometimes…" she replied lightly, her gaze briefly sweeping over him.

"Looks like we'll be passing a lake," Daryl continued after a while.

"Oh?" Carol smiled.

"Yeah…" he tapped a spot with his finger, "looks like it anyway," he squinted, "can't make out a name though."

"Well, we'll see," she agreed, studying him carefully, "you said Merle and your dad took you for hunting trips?"

"Ya make it sound like a goddamn camp with marshmallows and whatnot."

"No…" she sighed, "I'd imagine a more "grown-up" version."

"Yeah," he nodded, "way more grown-up and way more serious. We weren't there for fun…it was a competition." His eyes shifted away again and focused on the trees instead. "And if ya ended up losing there were bitter consequences."

Carol nodded to herself but didn't pry any further. "Was just wondering if you can fish, too."

"Sure," he shrugged, "is no big deal. Any idiot can fish."

"I can't…" she chuckled.

"Ya gotta be patient," he explained, staring at the road ahead.

"Difficult to do when your stomach is rumbling."

"Mmh…" he acknowledged, "thing is…fish ain't stupid."

"I always thought they were," she chuckled, "with their empty eyes and big open mouths." She paused and imitated them but then sobered quickly. "Sophia asked for a fish tank once…miraculously Ed agreed. She was so excited…spent half the day after school glued to the glass, watching the fish make stupid faces back at her. Didn't last long though," she sighed, "Ed lost his temper and smashed it all…cutting his knuckles…drenching the carpet…fish and blood everywhere. Sophia was inconsolable. There were few times when I hated him more."

Daryl listened and nodded. The story didn't shock him, not after what he had witnessed or experienced himself. But it was rare that Carol offered information about her life with her husband and he wanted to make her feel comfortable enough to talk to him more often.

Once more, silence enveloped them as they continued on their path, crossing an interstate that had once been covered in smooth, silky tarmac but was now cracked and brittle due to neglect and just as deserted as any other streets they had encountered on their journey so far.

They didn't stick to the roads, however, but instead sought out the shelter of the trees once more. There, Carol dared to voice the question that had been playing on her mind ever since their previous conversation.

"Are you ever scared you'll forget them?"

He caught her eye and instantly understood.

"Nah, that's impossible." He replied quickly and firmly, his thoughts drifting back to Merle, Hershel, T-Dog.

She smiled sadly – a soft grimace – and shook her head.

"Sometimes when I think about Sophia…I don't see the lovely young girl that was so shy and affectionate. I only see that…that thing that came staggering out of the barn." She broke off, clearly struggling to share her thoughts. "I only see the horror…and not the innocence and I just wonder," she briefly squeezed her eyes shut, "I wonder if that's the last image I'll ever carry around with me."

"Mmh…" he hummed attentively, "I get it. When I found Merle it was a shock. My brother wasn't there anymore. Just an empty shell. I just lost it. And for a while I was mad at him…just mad. I reckon it's normal…thinking about that last image first. But it doesn't matter. It's only one snapshot of many."

"But what if they fade, too?" Carol asked hesitantly.

"They won't," he replied simply and then quickly added when she threatened to contradict, "and even if…it's only an image. That's not the person, ya know? When ya talked about Sophia just now you didn't mention her blonde hair or her smile. Ya talked about her personality, her behaviour. Appearance don't matter. They were more than that."

Immensely touched and more than a little lost for words, Carol reached out for his hand and squeezed it. He didn't acknowledge the gesture but didn't let go either. So they wandered through the woods together, making sure to support the other.

But when the sun reached its highest point and the rays began to mercilessly shine down on them – even through the thick branches of the trees – they were beginning to grow tired.

Daryl didn't have to say anything but she could feel him struggling to keep up with her pace that was the same as it had been before. He was still holding her hand but had started shifting his other one to his ribcage. She knew that he was trying to be subtle about it but the movement hadn't escaped her notice.

"I wish it would rain again," she sighed, finally deciding to broach the topic and stopped walking, "this heat is unbearable."

"I know." Daryl agreed a little breathlessly, letting go of her hand and using his palm to wipe away some perspiration that had accumulated at the back of his neck.

"Perhaps we should take a break," she carefully suggested, "we've been walking for quite some time now."

Perhaps it was just a trick of the light but he was starting to look paler again. But in this world there was only one kind of situation and that was loss-loss. If they didn't move it would take them longer to acquire food and water but if they pushed on without having eaten properly in days they might not even make it to the next town.

"Yeah…let's…" he nodded, carefully bending over in an effort to find a more comfortable position and ease some of the pain.

Carol watched him with growing concern but didn't comment and instead lowered herself onto the leafy ground. Even the earth had heated up from the sun but surprisingly enough it was also a little moist.

"The lake can't be that far away," she mumbled more to herself but Daryl noticed and eyed her curiously.

But before they could talk more a crackling sound silenced them both. Daryl startled up straight so quickly that his face turned a whole shade whiter and Carol pushed herself up from the ground, her dagger at the ready. For a moment nothing moved and it was as if the sound hadn't cut through the air, but then something dragged itself out of the shadow of a nearby tree. They could see its mouth opening and closing, but the moss that covered its face stifled any form of snarling it would've otherwise produced.

As it was, the only noise they could hear came from thick, dried up tree branches that had wrapped itself around the walker's torso and that were slowly breaking apart now as he was trying to free himself.

"Let's go," Daryl muttered, taking her hand once more and tugging her along.

He'd seen her start to move towards the walker but since he didn't pose an imminent threat it wouldn't be worth the wasted energy.

Nonetheless, the atmosphere changed between them after that encounter.

When they had first begun walking they had still been able to convince themselves that they weren't running, that they weren't desperately starving and that they would manage to push on until they found food and water.

But the moss-covered walker brought that reality crashing back down.

This wasn't a casual stroll that they could easily accomplish with lots of breaks and snacks to revitalise them. This was still a hunt and they were the victims, chasing around in mad circles while their predator slowly tightened the noose.

They stumbled through the forest for such a long time that Carol stopped feeling the heaviness in her feet which was the only relief she could find in the situation. When she had first been driven out of the prison and had to start fending for herself, every fibre of her body had ached with the unfamiliar strain.

Life at the prison and the luxury of some relaxation had made her soft and her body had instantly punished her for it.

Now it was beginning to adapt to this new old rhythm again.

Suddenly Daryl yanked her back, so hard that she almost fell to the ground. Her left arm ached in protest and she was about to snap at him when he explained: "Ya didn't watch where you were going. Damn near ended up in the lake."

He was right, she hadn't been paying any attention to where they were going and now she saw the edge of the earth where the sole of her boot was still imprinted and where clumps of soil were crumbling into the water.

 _Water._

She heaved a relieved sigh and swung her backpack around to reach for the bottle they had emptied along the way.

"What are you doing?" he asked, giving her an incredulous look.

"We're not going to make it without, Daryl, I know it's risky."

"It's stupid is what it is," he frowned.

Letting go of his hand she ignored him and proceeded to walk along the edge until she reached a lower point that would allow her to scoop up some of the water. It looked surprisingly clear and she eagerly lifted the bottle to her lips but before she could take a single sip, Daryl appeared by her side and pushed it away, sending water spilling all over her and onto the ground.

"There's always a risk nowadays!" she exclaimed angrily.

"Yes, and if we end up getting bitten so be it but I'm not gonna let yaself get killed by some goddamn ridiculous water!" he replied, matching her tone and volume.

"It's because of you that I'm going to Terminus. I didn't even want to go there in the first place."

"And I wasn't going to let ya wither away at that house."

"What I do or how I die is my own choice. You don't get to dictate that!"

"Yeah well…ya can't stop me from saving you…" he muttered and marched on, knowing that she would follow him.


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9:

The silence between them had turned icy since their last exchange and still wordlessly they continued walking along the shore of the lake. Occasionally its long, spidery arms would stretch out and block their path, forcing them to take a detour into the woods once more but they would always return to the water.

She'd made sure to let Daryl walk a few paces further ahead of her, at first intentionally so – because she had needed a physical distance from him – but now because she'd become so lost in thought that she hadn't noticed how much further behind she'd fallen.

She'd stopped feeling the sun a while ago even though it continued to singe her skin through her clothes. As a matter of fact, she had stopped feeling anything as her body had taken one step after the other by its own accord. The heaviness, the numbness that had finally been lifted for a few glorious hours had returned full force and she felt unable to fight it.

She hadn't lost the girls either, not even when she'd found some relief in sharing the burden with Daryl and she doubted that she ever would.

But they'd been behaving differently.

They hadn't been calling out to her or threatening her. They had just been carefree little children, running around in the forest. That hadn't changed but she had. Now, when they came and begged her to play she felt too tired to oblige. If anything she wanted to lie down by the water, where the earth was the softest and she wanted to beg them to bury her in the mud.

Legs and chest first. Heavy handfuls to make sure she couldn't escape if she were to change her mind. Then more on her thighs, her feet, her shoulders. The mud felt warm and comforting but hardened quickly in the heat of the sun.

She was at the earth's mercy now and sooner or later – if the children hadn't done so yet – it would make sure that she would disappear. And then when she turned she would be buried too deep to cause anyone harm.

 _Mommy!_

Carol startled and stopped in her tracks, noticing deep lines in the earth by the shore as if somebody had been dragged into the water.

 _Familiar, isn't it? Except for blood now there's mud._

Her feet carried her closer to the edge, towards the body that was undoubtedly floating in the lake.

 _Mommy, help me!_

What if it was a child who had lost its balance while playing? What if it was in trouble and needed her help? Another step closer and her boot sank through the sludge. She knew that she was too late, she could see that the body had bloated up to twice its size, that strange liquid came pouring out and contaminated the water…and yet. And yet she had to try, she had to help.

But the thing had heard her, had slowly begun turning its ugly head in her direction when the sound of her boot had given her away. It gurgled softly, spewing water everywhere and continued to turn. Carol could see its belly now, noticed that the liquid wasn't the only thing that came spilling forth. Its intestines were being pushed out as well, squeezed through a large laceration it had suffered. Its bowels had already disappeared halfway in the depth of the lake, holding it in place like a perverse anchor. But nonetheless its belly kept pulsating with life, as if something else was struggling to come out.

 _Mommy, please!_

 _Sophia!_

Her right leg was so deep in the water now that she could feel the wetness up to her knee. The creature wasn't lost yet, it needed her help.

"Carol! Carol, what are you doing? Get away from that thing!"

And for the second time that day Daryl pulled her roughly back to safety. This time, however, she was unable to keep her balance and stumbled back until her body collided with his, sending them both onto the muddy ground.

He groaned at the impact and folded in on himself, cursing angrily.

She barely heard his heated words as they rained down on her, couldn't manage to break eye contact with the drowned creature yet.

"It's dead, Carol!" he yelled at her and this time his words pierced through the mist that had numbed her brain.

They also seemed to pierce a part of her she thought she'd protected well enough.

"I know."

Her voice sounded foreign to her own ears, strangely rough and hollow.

"No you don't! If you knew you wouldn't go into the water! You'd stay the fuck away from it and keep moving!"

She wrapped her arms around herself, creating more distance and tried keeping his voice out that kept cutting into her.

 _I've told you not to argue!_

"I needed to make sure…" she muttered feebly.

"No you didn't!" he kept yelling, sinking down in the mud next to her.

He pulled her roughly against his chest and Carol could tell by the way her back impacted on it that he had hurt his ribs again.

"You've got eyes, dontcha?" he snapped, wrapping an arm around her and holding her chin so that she was forced to look at the walker. "That thing ain't alive!"

Whatever fear had first taken hold of her, had transported her back into her living room with Ed, had suddenly made room for something else.

Another voice that protested at being treated in such a way again.

She fought against Daryl's firm grasp and whirled around to confront him.

"Don't you dare!" she yelled, matching his voice in intensity, "Don't you dare talk to me like that or touch me like that!"

The fire in his eyes diminished and he seemed to crumble in on himself. His body shook with sobs and tears rolled down his cheeks.

She hadn't expected him to cry and for a moment felt utterly helpless.

"Please don't be stupid. Think. Don't get yaself killed."

Word after word spilled forth from his mouth and all she could do was listen.

"I've lost Merle and I couldn't protect Beth. Please don't let me lose you too."

He looked so helpless and broken that she realised she'd been leaning on him too much for support lately. He was only a man, after all. A man with a painful past who'd been dumped in the same crap. And who had chosen her of all people to get attached to.

"I'm sorry," she scooted towards him and wrapped her arms around his trembling body.

Reciprocating the gesture he brought her even closer until their foreheads gently met each other halfway between their bodies.

"I can't lose you…" he repeated, and the despair in his eyes made her heart constrict painfully.

All she wanted to do at that moment was to fix him, to make him smile and to put the broken pieces back together. But there were no words adequate enough to express the extent of her feelings or promises big enough to let him hope again.

The answer came to her in a gesture, one she'd somehow always known she'd be the one to initiate. Her lips brushed his gingerly and she saw his eyes widen at the touch. Allowing him to process it all she pulled away for only an inch.

The separation didn't last longer than a second until he leaned back in and captured her lips once more. His kisses were a little clumsy at first, their noses bumping against each other while they tried finding the angle and the rhythm that suited them.

It wasn't a passionate kiss but it still left them breathless.

"We're tired…" Carol said, the first one to find her voice again, "and we're starving. Let's keep going before it turns dark and perhaps we'll find an abandoned shop along the way. Billingwood will have to wait until tomorrow."

He nodded mechanically, still too preoccupied with what had just happened but then accepted the hand she had offered to help him up.

"What if Beth and the others can't wait though?" he asked, and for the first time it wasn't because his mind kept wandering there, but rather to stop the silence from stretching on any longer.

Seeing as Carol had managed to move on so quickly, he didn't want to appear like a wimp and ask any silly questions. But there were millions of them buzzing through his head.

What did it all mean?

Would she do it again?

Could he do it again?

 _Do you have any balls, baby brother?_

He shook his head and with a last look at the drowned walker he jogged after her, carefully guarding his rib.

Carol turned her head to look at him over her shoulder and then smiled. "We have to assume they're alright. One more day won't make a difference."

"I don't agree," he muttered as they left the creek behind them, "but you're right about the food. We gotta eat something if we wanna survive." He fished the folded up map out of his pants pockets once more and held it out in front of him so she could see it too. "We're about to hit this street. We have to head south from there in anyway…let's just stay close to it and see if we pass any houses, find something edible there, have a break and then continue on. I can take it," he insisted when he saw her opening her mouth, "I just wanna make sure we waste no more time getting to Terminus. I need to find Beth."

He didn't notice the way her light blue eyes momentarily widened as if she was curious or surprised perhaps and by the time he looked at her again her expression was neutral once more.

She tried to focus on the journey ahead of them and mirrored his movements as well as she could – sticking close to the trees instead of the open road; scouting out the area for houses and shops – but despite her best efforts, her thoughts kept trailing back to the kiss.

It had been years since she had last shared such an intimate, comfortable moment with someone. And even when her attachment to Daryl had grown, she'd never imaged them having the opportunity or the space to connect in such a way. There just wasn't enough room for privacy when you moved in a group and lived from day to day.

So in that sense she felt that there couldn't have been a better moment for them. But in many other ways she wished she'd found a way to express what she was feeling otherwise and save the kiss for later.

But that didn't stop her from reliving the memory, of course. He'd felt so familiar, slightly rough and yet gentle, making her whole again.

"There," his voice tore her out of her thoughts and his arm wrapped around her middle to prevent her from taking another step forward.

Her hand instinctively flew to the dagger she'd started carrying on her belt again, but then she saw that he was pointing at a large house on the other side of the road that was camouflaged perfectly and her fingers relaxed.

"Yes, let's go." She nodded.

They both stalked to the side of the road, making sure that there were no walkers or humans in the vicinity. But the street – like so many others before – lay empty and bare with only a few cars stranded along it.

They reached the house within a few seconds and took their positions by the front door.

"I'll go in first," Carol suggested, loosening the blade from its holster, "and you cover my back."

"Ain't got nothin' to cover you with," he sighed, "but I'll make sure we won't get ambushed."

"Good," she smiled and with a last confirmatory nod, she pushed the handle down and entered the house.

"Almost too easy," Daryl breathed behind her and although she agreed, she chose to keep silent.

They crept from one room to the other in search for any lingering walkers or any other nasty surprises, but the house was deserted. And when they made it to the last room they understood why.

In a rocking chair by the window sat the decomposing corpse of an old lady. Her body was hunched over and a hole visibly protruded from the side of her head, although it was unclear if somebody had taken mercy on her or if she had chosen this way out herself.

 _Mommy, why can't we go see grandma anymore?  
_  
 _Your daddy is too busy to take us, sweetheart._

Carol blinked against the memories, the thoughts and the what-ifs while Daryl slipped past her and picked up the gun from the floor.

"Not my style…" he opened it up and checked the number of bullets remaining, "but a weapon's a weapon. Let's see what granny's left us downstairs."

"Don't talk like that." Carol said softly and turned her back on the corpse and Daryl chose not to argue based on the sound of her voice.

Instead he loosely draped his arm over her shoulder and nudged her body lightly with his.

"Let's go…"

He coaxed her into taking a step forward and that's all it took to make her abandon the memories for now. They sneaked back downstairs as quietly as they had come up – despite knowing that the house was empty – and started rummaging through the kitchen.

There wasn't much they could find that hadn't passed its use-by date, just a couple of energy bars, canned spaghetti and vegetables but they piled all of them into Carol's backpack as if they were their greatest treasure.

"How about that?" Daryl called suddenly and Carol turned away from the fridge, holding two water bottles she had just recovered.

"Some proper chocolate. Granny up there must've been a real kind lady."

Carol smiled a little pained, uncapped one of the bottles and kept her eyes on the floor while drinking.

"They ain't no good for us but perhaps Carl or the girls will like 'em."

He had spoken without another thought, had almost forgotten the graves he had noticed at the grove but got his suspicions unintentionally confirmed when her hand that had been handing him another water bottle began to shake so desperately that she splashed its contents all over the floor.

"Good idea," she didn't make eye contact, "I'll check out the bathroom for some bandages."

And he allowed her to go, giving her the space that she so desperately needed.

She tried walking towards it at a normal pace but she could barely breathe and had to make it there before he would witness her collapse. But the door of the bathroom was so rigid that she had to yank hard at it until it finally slammed closed behind her.

He would've heard it, no doubt. Might even come to investigate.

But that didn't matter for now, couldn't matter, when all she really needed to do was breathe first.

She sank down on the bathroom floor, knees drawn against her chest and her arms shielding her body from this invisible attack. Her chest hurt as only small breaths made it past her lips.

There wasn't a single coherent thought in her head, no image either.

Just fragments.

 _Too nice.  
_  
 _Pain.  
_  
 _Innocent.  
_  
 _Rick.  
_  
 _Rick._

The last one stuck.

 _With my children. I won't have you there._

"Everything alright?" a knock on the door and Carol jerked up.

Her chest was still heaving while she struggled to find her voice.

"I'm gonna come in."

She turned towards the cabinet to make it look as if she'd been searching for medicine but caught a glimpse of herself.

She wasn't alone.

Lizzie stood behind her, peering over her shoulder.

 _If you tell him_ , she whispered into her ear, _he won't keep our secret and then I'll have to make him turn too. Just like Mika. He'll be our friend forever then._

Carol supressed a whimper and managed to yank the cabinet doors open at the same time as Daryl managed to open the door to the bathroom.

"Not much here," she commented in a trembling voice, "just some diuretics and vitamins. Oh good and some painkillers." She turned the bottle with shaky hands to check the label. "And they're still good. Perfect, that should help ease some of your pain."

Daryl remained in the doorway, observing her carefully but he knew that she was too anxious now to talk. So when she turned around with a brave smile he tried mirroring it as best as he could and took the tablets she'd offered to him.

"I found some more water…and coke. It's all in your backpack."

"Alright, you take that painkiller and then we'll be off."

He silently nodded and brushed her hand in passing.

A little while later they set off again, down the road that would lead them towards Billingwood. They walked in silence, each of them following their own trail of thought and continued to do so until the air turned cooler around them and darkness began to fall.

But the closer they came to Billingwood, the tenser their bodies grew. It was as if they had learned that reaching a destination nowadays didn't always go hand in hand with finding peace. As a matter of fact, more often than not, it came with a fight for safety.

And as it turned out, Billingwood wasn't an exception.

A hum in the air caught their attention first and told them that something wasn't right. With their weapons poised they crept closer, keeping as close to the ground as they possibly could.

The nearer they got, the more the hum intensified until they could finally see what had caused it. A large herd, bigger than the one they had previously encountered, staggered through the little suburb, leaving nothing but destruction in its wake.

They were drawn in by something, attracted by something powerful enough to hold their attention so long; a fire further ahead that was billowing black smoke into the evening sky.


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter 10:

Daryl spotted it a moment later and braved a step towards the open road to get a better view. The walkers that were passing nearby were too distracted to notice him. With nervous, clumsy movements he opened one of the pockets on his pants to pull out the map again. He scanned it briefly, then looked back up towards the horizon where the smoke continued to billow forth.

"Terminus," he said, first only to himself and then with more conviction as he turned towards Carol, "it's coming from Terminus."

She nodded darkly and followed him onto the clearing.

"We're outa time. We gotta keep moving." He pursued, "They're in trouble."

"What we have to do is keep our heads." Carol corrected him evenly. "I know you're dying to barge in there and make sure everyone's alright. I know you. But think about it. We don't know anything about Teminus, we don't even know if Rick and the others…" she paused and swallowed, "we don't know who else made it out of the prison alive. And we certainly don't know if those that are have made it to Terminus."

"I just know, alright?" Daryl flared up, starting to pace back and forth on the little stretch of open road. "And I know that you do as well. I don't believe you just wanna stand around here and-"

"That's not what I was saying," she interrupted him softly, "all I meant was that we need to get closer to take a look and see if they're really there, if they're in danger. We're no use to them either if we get ourselves killed along the way."

Daryl exhaled heavily a couple of times and then stopped pacing.

"Alright," he nodded but continued to look doubtful, "how do we do it?"

Carol turned a little so she could fully see the herd again. "Only one way…we have to do it like Glenn and Rick did."

"Kill some walkers and smother ourselves in their guts?" Daryl asked and she nodded.

"That's the only way they won't detect us."

"What about bandages, weapons?" He felt his ribs uncertainly.

"We'll pass shops along the way. Let's see what we can scavenge."

Daryl nodded determinedly, stuffed the map back in his pocket and then held out his hand. "Give me your knife. I'll take one of 'em walkers out."

Carol nodded and gave it to him, then she retreated back to the cover of the trees and watched as he captured a walker that had strayed from the herd, dragged her towards the woods and killed her there.

But even though his movements had looked as smooth as ever he was panting heavily when he beckoned her closer.

"Daryl, are you-?" she began worriedly but he nodded quickly.

"I'm fine. Let's gut this motherfucker."

She shot him a concerned look and briefly touched his arm for reassurance, before crouching down and placing her backpack on the ground. She rummaged inside it for a while until – beneath the cans and bottles – she managed to unearth one of the old lady's coats that she had slipped off the rack before they had left.

She shrugged out of her own jacket, rolling her shoulder against the soreness that still lived in her muscles and then stuffed it into the backpack.

"Your vest?" she looked up at Daryl questioningly and after a moment's hesitation he handed it to her.

Taking her knife from him as well she positioned herself on the side of the walker.

 _I need to learn how to cut through the abdomen and the uterus without cutting the baby._

She blinked and plunged it into the walker's abdomen. The blade slid through thin layers of skin and then bounced harshly against bone. She took a deep breath, pulled it out slightly and picked a new spot. This time she was more successful and within seconds had opened her up enough so that her guts were laid bare.

"Help yourself." She instructed, breathing through her mouth.

She couldn't look at it anymore and focused on Daryl instead, knowing that if she didn't she'd convince herself that something was stirring inside that corpse.

He didn't seem to hesitate and quickly lathered himself with walker guts so that his bare arms were coated in red. The smell was almost unbearable; worse than the one of decay that surrounded them day in and day out.

The energy bar she had consumed previously – and now wished she hadn't – threatened to come back up again. Her body shivered and she swallowed once, twice purposefully to make sure she wouldn't gag.

"Your turn." Daryl said and she anxiously glanced back at the dead walker.

There was still plenty of blood and intestines left and with another deep breath she lowered her hands into the gooey mass.

"I'll help ya," he offered and scooped up handfuls as well which he then continued to smear over the back of the old woman's coat she had put on.

"How do I look?" Carol asked when she was done; intestines adorning her like jewellery.

"Disgusting," he commented and managed a small grin.

"Then let's get moving," she nodded, slipping the backpack over her shoulders.

They didn't talk anymore once they joined the herd and spent the first few moments in tense silence, anticipating to be discovered any second. But the walkers just kept moving, stumbling sluggishly but gradually towards the fire.

Carol tried matching her movements to theirs and turned her head as little as possible while still trying to take in everything around them.

"Store," Daryl muttered quietly after a while and she tried following the direction of his eyes.

Nestled between a row of apartment houses a faded marquee announced the latest bargains on sale at "Kroger's Convenience Store". But the windows of the little shop were broken, shards of glass littered the ground and a small shopping cart lay abandoned in the doorway.

"Too late," she muttered back and they kept walking, trying not to contemplate what might have happened to Kroger and his employees or the other poor people who might've sought shelter in the shop.

For a long time afterwards they didn't encounter a thing. No supermarkets, no pharmacies, not even a gas station. Instead they pressed themselves through the herd of walkers, dead limbs bumping into them, snarls and moans filling the air around them.

Carol felt her heart starting to race. Wherever she looked there were dead faces and twitchy movements.

Everyone looked the same.

Everyone looked like _them_.

Perhaps they had died too, a long time ago.

Her breathing became laboured. Her body felt heavy.

What did it feel like, what did it look like to walk normally?

Was she staggering or walking?

Snarling or panting?

"Psst," Daryl whistled lowly and purposefully bumped into her, "jackpot over there."

She couldn't see what he had spotted now but he'd disappeared so quickly that she had no choice but to follow him. When she caught up with him he'd already climbed halfway into a building with the title Bass Pro Shops.

He kicked against a piece of glass his pants had been caught on, then turned and offered a hand to help her climb inside as well.

"What's this?" she whispered.

There was movement and groaning sounds coming from the back but camouflaged as they were, it didn't worry them.

"They specialise in hunting equipment." He nodded and looked around. "Though it seems like most of the good stuff was already taken."

His eyes flickered to an empty rack under which a label read "crossbows" and Carol instantly understood his disappointment.

"Let's keep looking," she suggested, "they can't have taken everything."

They split up and looked around but Carol soon realised that he had been right; most of the weapons were certainly gone.

A soft whistling startled her and she made her way across the shop towards its source. Daryl was waiting there with his arms full of different items.

"Gimme your backpack."

She frowned but nodded, swung it off her shoulder and opened it up.

"Here we go," he announced happily, "flashlight, a spring trap and a two-way radio. Could come in handy at Terminus."

"Unless we run out of batteries," she remarked and watched him reaching for more things.

"Might be more behind the counter," he smiled.

He'd discovered a black knife and was flipping it open and closed.

"These are the best," he explained when he saw her watching, "we're lucky they didn't take it. Can you give me one of those bags?"

Carol looked around at the assortment of military duffel bags and backpacks that nobody seemed to have touched and then picked one up.

"Won't it all fit in my backpack?" she frowned.

"Course it will," he nodded, "I'm just making myself a bandage."

She wanted to ask him how but chose to watch instead.

Angling the pack she had just given him and propping it up against his knee, Daryl used his newfound knife to cut out a chunk.

"It's not quite bullet-proof," he grinned and tapped against it, "but it'll help some."

He dropped the discarded pack, as well as the cut out piece on the floor, tore open a package of rubber gloves and started forcing one of them over his makeshift piece of armour.

"Gimme a hand," he muttered and she stepped closer, sceptically eyeing his new creation.

"I push and you hold it," she suggested and together they managed to do it without breaking the glove.

"What's that for then?"

"It's softer," he shrugged, "won't rub so much and tear my skin open."

"Smart," she praised appreciatively and then shifted her eyes from it back to Daryl who looked rather pleased with himself.

It was adorable, really, but she doubted he'd enjoy hearing that. So instead of lingering and watching him undress even further, she turned around and walked back towards the counter.

"I'll have a look for those batteries."

"Good," he called after her, "if you see some tape bring it! I'm gonna need it."

Carol cast a last glance back at him and then pushed her way to the front of the store.

Outside, the herd of walkers was still shuffling past. She watched them for a couple of moments, trying to prepare herself for the inevitability of having to join their ranks again, and then climbed over the counter and rummaged through the drawers at the wall.

No batteries, but plenty of tape.

She picked up two rolls and returned to Daryl who was waiting for her bare-chested at the other side of the store. Her eyes briefly swept over his body and when she handed him the tape she tried stifling her giggles to no avail.

"What?" he frowned, tearing some tape loose with his teeth.

"Next time, let Lola show you how to use the sunbed correctly, pookie." She commented, erupting into laughter now.

He frowned and looked down at his body that was largely covered in red and brown goo, except for the flecks of white skin where his shirt had been resting.

"Shut up," he muttered, but the corners of his mouth twitched amusedly.

She didn't know what had come over her, knew that the situation was entirely too inappropriate to make such a comment but she just hadn't been able to stop herself.

Perhaps a bit of laughter was what they needed at times.

Then an explosion erupted nearby and shook the ground around them, bringing them swiftly back to the present.

"Terminus," Daryl muttered, quickly fastening some pieces of tape on either side of the bandage.

Carol nodded silently in agreement and turned him around so she could tape it to his body. He wiggled around a bit to make sure it would stay there securely and then pulled his shirt back over his head.

"Ain't gonna stick forever but might last through Terminus."

She nodded again and carefully tapped the spot the bandage now covered with her finger.

"Better," she concluded, allowed him to drop the second roll of tape in her now heavier backpack and then swung it over her shoulder once more.

They groped and felt their way back towards the entrance of the shop, the fading sunlight making it harder to see now that the night was settling around them.

"We could really use that flashlight now," Carol sighed, letting him slip through the bashed in window first.

"No batteries?" he asked, turning away from the herd to face her again.

"No," she shook her head and followed him.

"Don't matter," he offered his hand once more, "light might've only distracted them from the fire."

She nodded in agreement and then eyed the walkers sceptically. "Do you think the smell will have worn off?"

He studied her and then himself. "Only one way to find out."

The thought of re-joining the herd terrified her but there was no other way and so they slipped back between their ranks and adapted the same old slow pace.

As the sky turned pitch-black the billowing smoke of the fire, its red, angry flames became a threatening beacon. At times a reassuring reminder that they didn't have much farther to go and at other times filling them with dread at the possible scenarios they might encounter.

Leaving the little suburb behind, the road cut a clean path through the forest once more but the trees that had once provided them with shelter now towered intimidatingly over them. And although neither of them spoke, they both knew that whoever had caused this fire, the explosion, could very well be lurking there.

They continued to walk for so long that Carol wondered if they had wandered off-course but with the fire burning so prominently that couldn't be the case. Nonetheless she couldn't shake the concern that had taken hold of her.

If Terminus was a city like she had assumed, surely they should've seen a sign of it now?

And they had to be close, she could feel the heat of the fire as if the flames were licking at her skin. The dust and smoke was tickling her throat.

"No!" Daryl exclaimed and instantly made her feel sick to her stomach.

He hadn't raised his voice, hadn't needed to, but it had nonetheless sounded so full of anguish that she'd just known that something was wrong.

She stopped walking, too, turning her head back in his direction to see what had stopped him. Walkers bumped into her and snarled angrily.

"We're too late." He said quietly and crouched down to pick up a sign she hadn't even noticed.

He turned it her way so she could read the note that welcomed lost people to Terminus.

"It doesn't mean…" she began but he only nudged his chin in the direction of the fire once more.

She squinted, the flames dancing in her eyes in the darkness and then with a sudden, deafening feeling realised he was right. The fences that must've once been erected to keep the city safe were torn down and walkers roamed every last corner of the promised sanctuary.


	12. Chapter 11

**A/N:Thanks for the review! I hope I still have your attention. haha I promise it will be explained what happened at Terminus and I hated to take Carol's big moment away from her. It's one of my favourite moments from the series but it just wouldn't have worked in my timeline. We're now halfway through the story in case anyone was wondering. Looking forward to hearing your thoughts! :)**

Chapter 11:

Everything slowed down for a second and then rapidly sped up again. Daryl was behind her one minute and racing past her the next. He pushed and elbowed walkers out of the way and even drove his blade into their skulls. It was obvious that he was out of control and didn't care anymore if they were detected or not.

Her fingers closed around the hilt of her knife. She grasped it so firmly that her knuckles turned white. Then she burst into a run as well. The more progress she made, the more fallen corpses littered her path but she kept her eyes trimmed on Daryl's back and continued to run, anticipating an attack any moment.

She heard the metallic clanging as her shoes grazed the fallen fence but didn't pay much attention to it because she had suddenly become stranded in the mass of walkers. Air was escaping her lungs in quick puffs as she frantically looked around, trying to find Daryl again. But it was impossible. All around her were decomposing bodies pushing her around, growling dangerously and the heat of the fire had now become unbearable.

She could feel the old fear bite its way back into her bones, cold sweat trickling down her back.

Alone without Daryl.

She had lost him too.

Her breaths became deeper, heavier, weighing her whole body down, tempting her to fall to her knees so that the walkers could trample her to death. But then she heard his screams full of sorrow and despair.

"Beth! Beth!"

Trembling she forced herself to walk again, slower this time.

One breath.

Slower.

Another breath.

Good.

She scanned the area again, listened out for his screams. Next to her a walker was feeding on some fresh flesh. She didn't look, couldn't bear to see who it was.

Reaching up to her shoulders to pull her pack closer against her back, she slipped through a gap between another two walkers and followed the familiar railway tracks around the side of the first building she encountered.

There was no sign of life.

"Beth!"

Another wild and anguished scream. His voice was starting to crack.

She moistened her lips, tried clearing her throat that felt dry and scratchy but couldn't produce a single sound. He had seemed close though. Perhaps if she just kept pressing on she'd catch up with him again.

She quickly let her gaze sweep over the tracks, making sure that she hadn't missed him anywhere but except for the odd walker she could only make out a couple of abandoned train carriages.

He had to have disappeared into one of the buildings. She glanced back at the one she had just passed and then forward again, trying to make a decision. At last she saw that someone had opened a large gate on the side of the hall ahead of her and so she jogged towards it. Walkers had infiltrated it as well and were now stumbling around the empty space.

Carol held her breath, hoping that the sweat hadn't washed away the scent of decay. When none of them turned to look at her she proceeded, leaving the first hall behind and slipping into the next. It seemed to have served as a kind of weapon's chamber. Various items lay spread out across a table. They had been neatly arranged by size and placed row by row except for some spots where the order was broken and it seemed as if somebody had picked up several of them in a hurry.

Had it been Daryl or someone else?

She had started towards the next door when something caught her attention: a gun that had been placed innocently enough next to several of its kind.

But it wasn't just any gun.

Carol turned and approached the table, let an inch of its strap run through her fingers before picking it up.

This was Tyreese's.

Somebody had taken it off him. She knew this without a shadow of a doubt. He never would've handed it over willingly, not when he had been tasked with protecting Judith.

The implications of this only made her more determined as she slung the gun over her shoulder and rushed towards the next room. She reached for the handle of the gate, trying to yank it open but instantly recoiled when the touch burned her hand. Wincing she wrapped it in the hem of her dirty coat and tried once more. The heat was strong enough to prickle at her flesh but she ignored it; she needed to make sure that Daryl hadn't become trapped inside.

The fire had consumed a large part of the room and she instantly jumped back when the flames hungrily advanced towards her.

"Daryl!" she yelled in fear when she spotted a body lying on the ground.

Her eyes darted around wildly, trying to find a solution, trying to find _something_ that could help her get closer.

That's when she saw the writing on the walls that hadn't been turned into charcoal yet. Deadly premonitions in a spikey and bloody handwriting. She looked around again, noticed the objects, the tossed over candlesticks.

This had been a shrine.

She read the writing again.

This had been a trap.

She doubled around and chased back down the way she had come from, her face darkened by the smoke and glistening with sweat. When she burst outside, she followed the path between the two buildings that led deeper into the territory.

"Daryl!" she yelled time and time again until her throat felt raw and she was forced to stop and cough violently.

Smoke was filling her lungs. Pain constricted her chest. And Daryl was dead.

She retched and trembled, tears blurring her vision. He couldn't be. The door had been closed. Nobody could've locked him in. She had to keep searching.

She took a single step forward, gasping for air. Walkers, fire, death all around her. She stumbled onwards and hit the side of the building. It scraped her shoulder and the skin near her left temple but she grasped at it for support and continued.

"What did you do to them?"

Daryl's voice, angry, raging.

She tried walking faster.

"Open your mouth you pussy!"

A thump, a groan of pain and then only soft whimpering.

"Please…"

"Shut the fuck up and tell me what," a crunch, "you," a yelp of pain "did!"

"Daryl," she turned a corner and saw him hovering over a stranger who had seen better days.

He had an open wound near his stomach that coloured his shirt in deep red and a raw bite near his shoulder that seemed to stem from the walker that lay dead beside him now.

"What are you doing?"

She noticed specks of red on Daryl's boot.

"Rick was here…Glenn was here…they all…" his hand tightened around the pocket watch he was holding. It was splattered with blood as well. "What the fuck did you do to them?" he yelled again and kicked the man in his stomach once more.

He yelped, his body contorted and he spat out blood.

"Stop it, Daryl."She bridged the gap between them and touched his arm, Tyreese's gun slipped off her shoulder and landed heavily between them. "He's dying."

"I don't fucking give a shit!" he bellowed again and tried pushing her out of the way but she wrapped her arms around him and tried keeping him in line. "It's a fucking slaughter house. They're killing people like animals! Where are they?!"

He pushed against her with such force that she almost fell over.

"Gone," the man coughed and then smiled, showing his teeth that were covered in blood.

Daryl's hand flew to his belt to grab the knife that was fastened there.

"It's not worth it," Carol tried, "listen to me. There's a fire in that building and it's about to reach the weapon chamber. There are guns in there…ammunition…grenades. This whole place is going to blow up. We have to leave. Now!"

Daryl panted and nodded but his eyes never left the man.

"Come on." She repeated and pushed him forward and away from him.

Daryl nodded again and started walking and with a last look Carol followed suit. They hadn't taken three steps when he whirled around, grabbed the nearest walker and forcefully shoved him towards the injured man on the ground.

"No!" Carol gasped but it was too late.

The agonizing, final screams of a dead man pierced the air and made her blood run cold.

But Daryl's expression remained completely blank and he continued walking as if nothing had happened. She, however, couldn't turn her face away from the grueling image and continued to stare at it until the walker had devoured the last screams of its victim.

"Carol, come on!" Daryl called to her from a distance, sounding completely detached.

Reluctantly she moved again, staggering after him.

They hadn't made it very far when the explosion ricocheted around them, sending pieces of debris flying through the air and throwing her off her feet. Daryl stopped and wrapped his arm around her, helping her up once more but his grim expression never changed.

Carol hobbled onwards but cast a glance back over her shoulder to see nothing but demon children dancing in the flame of the freshly ignited fire and when she looked back at Daryl they continued to dance in his eyes.

His own nightmares haunted him now.


	13. Chapter 12

**A/N:Thanks for your review and the follows! :) And sorry that I posted this chapter later here than on AO3 and ninelives but ff net was acting up and wouldn't let me log in. Anyway, here you go! Hope you enjoy the chapter!**

Chapter 12:

The sound of more explosions filled the air around them as they continued to stagger forward. The heat was all-consuming and the smoke that had drifted into even the last corners of the area made taking a simple breath almost impossible. Her feet moved clumsily, crisscross patterns, tilting ground; her vision swam and she bumped repeatedly into Daryl's body.

He didn't respond, didn't acknowledge her except for the strong arm that remained wrapped around her and prevented her from falling over completely. He didn't even seem to notice that everything around them was crumbling, that the stench of burning flesh hung in the air. But there was a drive in him that kept him moving forward. There was such palpable anger, frustration and hurt that it instantly reminded her of the one and only time she had feared he might strike her.

He was suffering, entrapped in his own personal hell but found it easier to connect to the rage. She could feel him dying to tear someone down, rip someone to shreds and cause the most possible damage to himself in the process. He wanted to bruise, to burn, to ache. She could feel it. And she couldn't reach him. Not yet.

The path ahead of them, the maze of seemingly never-ending corridors and buildings was littered with corpses, both dead and undead. She didn't know if they were making progress but kept following Daryl, afraid to lose him further if she were to sever their physical bond.

"Wait."

She hadn't heard his voice since he had screamed at the survivor a few moments ago and the change was startling. He sounded tired now, empty. But she accepted his instructions and stopped moving, allowed him to disentangle his arm and walk away. The lack of his presence left her feeling vulnerable and scared, although he had only strayed a few steps.

He was standing hunched over a figure on the ground. She squinted and tried to make out more, tried to see who he had found now.

Was it Tyreese or someone else from their group?

She noticed that his gun still dangled loosely in the crook of her arm and absent-mindedly pulled it back up and over her shoulder. Then she looked back in time to see Daryl remove an item from the body, a large one which he held up carefully and appraised in mid-air.

It was a crossbow.

She started moving towards him and saw him run a finger over the arrows that were left. There were only two, a third had been broken.

She heard him curse, saw him feel every inch of it in search of further damage.

"Yours…" it was a statement, not a question and he nodded without looking at her. "Is this?" she asked, pointing to the body on the ground that had nearly been torn in half.

"Mmh…" he hummed, "got what was coming to them."

He slung the crossbow over his shoulder and then stomped on the group leader's head, which crunched and squished and finally broke apart under his boot.

The sound very nearly turned her stomach and so she started walking, trying to push the horrific image away. Eventually his heavy footsteps caught up with her but they continued in silence, finally leaving Terminus behind and entering the forest once more.

There was no sign of the herd on this side, its remnants seemed to have scattered around the compound. In fact, there was an almost eerie sense of peace in the forest. No signs of life, no movements, not even a breeze.

Carol's body was aching everywhere. Pained, heavy feet, stabbing pain in her chest, a strain on her back.

But Daryl was showing no signs of slowing down. He kept marching ahead with determination, not once looking back at her. She knew that it helped him to push on and so she tried keeping up with him, but when she started to feel light-headed she was forced to stop.

Small tingles made their way down her arm and to the tips of her fingers. Her wrists seemed to be pulsating with too much life. Prickling, brimming over. She registered her own heavy breathing, squeezed her hand into a fist to shake off that feeling.

"Daryl."

She couldn't lift her head up anymore, couldn't see if he had continued on without her. She was longing to soldier on for his sake so that he could walk off his anger, so that he would find a way to tell her what he was feeling before it would consume him like everything else had consumed her.

A tremor passed through her body.

She wasn't going to make it.

* * *

The next time she stirred, everything around her was pitch black. Had she really opened her eyes?

She squinted and saw shadows, contours of something dark that barely stood in contrast with everything else around.

The shadows were moving, swaying gently side to side. She could hear the breeze, the soft rustling of leaves and suddenly the whole scene cleared.

She was staring up at the few pieces of night-sky that were visible through the crowns of the trees. Needles and cones were pressing into her back and so she tried to shift but found she was lacking the energy.

And where was Daryl?

Had he continued on without her?

She felt around for something on the forest ground, anything that she could toss somewhere to make some sound and alert him to her. But nothing but needles and withered blades of grass tickled her fingers.

Then she encountered something heavy and robust.

Tyreese's gun.

She squeezed it for reassurance and then felt further.

Her backpack.

Someone had put them all within her reach. Daryl couldn't be far. Another soft breeze washed through her hair, cooled her face that seemed bruised after the fire had assaulted it so. She needed more.

Lifting a tired arm up she tried peeling off a layer of clothing but was surprised when her skin didn't come in contact with the soft fabric of the old lady's coat she had last worn, but instead with something colder and slicker. She feebly grasped it between her fingers and lifted it up for inspection.

Daryl's vest.

She twirled it around, could just make out the angel wings on the back. He must've taken off the coat, wrapped her in her own one again and then draped his vest over her to make sure she stayed warm enough.

The emotions flooded her so quickly that she couldn't prevent the tears that blossomed alongside the smile on her face. He wasn't too far gone. She could still bring him back.

* * *

Leaning against a tree a couple of meters away, Daryl sat and kept watch, unaware that Carol had woken up again. As a matter of fact, he had been unaware of almost everything in the past however many hours had ticked by. Since the apocalypse time had become an abstract concept once more.

But he'd relied on his instincts to alert him if a potential threat was to be nearing Carol. It was more important now than ever before that he kept her safe.

But in contrast to that protective, almost possessive need to keep her safe, was the fear that seemed to inhibit every last inch of his body. The fear that kept mercilessly reminding him of his failures in the past, of the deaths of all the people he had vowed to keep safe.

How could he endure another one?

How could he ever bear to lose her?

The fear paralyzed him while whispering possibilities into his ear.

What if he just ran away?

What if he disappeared before he had to witness the inevitable?

What if he just spent the rest of his life believing that Carol was safe somewhere?

But could he? Or would he always be wondering if he had failed her? Would he be able to live with the guilt of having abandoned her in the middle of a forest?

A couple of times he had risen to a semi-stand or perhaps had only pictured himself doing so, as his body itched to get away. But in the end it was impossible. Abandoning her was not an option.

Restlessly, he slipped the knife out of its holster and started flipping it around in his hand. It was a gesture that had become a nervous habit by now. He knew instinctively how much force was needed to make sure that it landed safely in his hand again. He knew which angle would create the best shape in the air.

And yet this time it always landed the wrong way round. His palm tightened rhythmically around the blade, felt it cut into his skin and felt the moisture that could only be blood trickle down his wrist.

 _Man up, Darleena. You've always been too soft._

 _You're not them. You're your own person._ That's what Carol had said.

But it didn't matter who you had been or who you were now, the outcome was always the same. The earth was wiping itself out and all that would remain was loss. And he was done fighting it.

He didn't want to be the last man standing.

* * *

The first thing Carol noticed when she awoke again were the noises around her or the lack thereof. There was wind, soft and gentle and the whispering of leaves and grass as the forest came to life. But there were no explosions, no screams of agony, not even the crackling of a burning fire.

Brightness touched her even through her closed lids and for a moment she just savored it all. Everything was far from alright and she knew that within a few seconds the reality of their recent experiences would catch up with her again and strangle that moment of bliss but for now she was breathing, she was sensing, she was alive and the world was quiet.

Slowly she opened her eyes and looked up at the sky that was blue and inviting once more. No walkers in sight and Daryl wasn't gone.

Small things but she needed to count her blessings, had always excelled in that.

 _Mommy's alright, Sophia, don't worry. It's only a bruise, nothing's broken._

It could've been much worse.

With a deep sigh she pulled herself up into a sitting position, Daryl's vest slipped down her body and landed in her lap. Her head ached still, but it was a duller pain now, much easier to ignore. She automatically scanned the area for threats but there was nothing except trees and Daryl's sleeping figure a couple of meters away.

Terminus was no longer visible. Another memory, another nightmare.

She was thankful even for that and so she tried her hand at another smile but found that her face couldn't comply. Her muscles felt heavy, there was pressure on her cheeks. A thick layer of soot and walker blood.

She turned her body and reached for her backpack, pulling out one of the water bottles they had found the previous day. She had intended to use some to wash her face, but the sight of it suddenly reminded her how thirsty she was. Her vocal cords seemed as glued together as her other muscles. And so she gulped most of the water down at such a pace she feared for a moment it might make her sick. But then her torso relaxed and some of the urgency dispelled.

Still, she gave herself a moment before pouring the remnants of the bottle into her hands and washing away the grime that had covered her face. Her skin continued to feel sensitive and raw, presumably from a burn or a cut, she couldn't tell without a mirror. But it was manageable.

Standing up was difficult but she made it somehow and scooped up her belongings before stumbling towards Daryl. He heard her and tiredly opened an eye. They didn't speak but understood each other nonetheless.

They would move on in time but not now, not yet.

The gun and the backpack dropped heavily on the earthy ground and then she lowered herself as well. Daryl shifted and closed his eyes again, allowing her enough space to lean against the tree. The sides of their bodies touched comfortably, reassuringly at every possible point and Carol folded out his vest again and covered them both with it, then she tilted her head so she could rest her chin against his shoulder. They were tired, lost and disheartened but just for that moment even that was alright.


	14. Chapter 13

**A/N:Thanks for your review, guest, and the follows and faves! I can assure you that this story is haunting me as well and I won't let it go until it's finished...which will be in roughly 7 chapters from now (I think). lol So here's the longer chapter with a little bit of fluff...maybe it's not fluff necessarily but definitely bonding. It'll continue in the next chapter, I promise. Let me know your thoughts! :)**

Chapter 13:

Her head snapped up and her eyes flew open. For a second she was blinking against the harsh sunlight, completely disoriented. But she was certain she'd heard something.

Her gaze flickered everywhere, assessing the trees in the vicinity behind all of which the potential threat could be lurking. Her body tensed and her fingers curled around her knife.

For another moment everything remained still, then a faint snarl sounded, followed by a second that seemed to answer its call.

Carol quickly turned to Daryl to wake him up but saw that his eyes were already open and staring into the direction the sounds had come from. Unlike her, however, he seemed calm and almost disinterested. He didn't stir when the first walker emerged tumbling from behind a tree, half of its torso burned away, its clothes reduced to crisps.

"Leftovers from the herd," she tried to tell him quietly, but her voice didn't want to comply, "Terminus must have nothing else to offer anymore."

But Daryl didn't nod to acknowledge that he'd heard her, instead he kept looking at the walker as it continuously advanced with the same old apathy.

Pushing away from the tree with such force that both of her shoulders ached, she urgently clasped at his hand. "We have to go. Now! God knows how many more will come this way."

"I'm not goin'."

He didn't budge and his hand hung heavily in hers.

"We have no choice!" she tried once more. "We can't possibly fight all of them. We are in no condition to!"

The snarls were getting louder now but Daryl still refused to move.

Dropping his hand, Carol rose to her feet and bridged the gap between them and the first walker. It was an easy target and quickly found its end on the forest ground but her body was still so worn out from the previous day, from the smoke, the fire, the fear, that she felt almost unable to take on a second one. But that didn't matter. The walkers would keep coming if they didn't flee.

Turning around, she moved back towards Daryl and crouched down in front of him. "This is suicide and you know it. We've got to-"

"It don't matter," he muttered, "don't matter where we go they'll always be there."

"Yes, but giving up is not an option." She replied angrily, frustrated with him as well as herself because she had succumbed to the same hopelessness before he had found her. "You can't stop me from saving you, remember?"

He shook his head and reached for his crossbow. Routinely he put the broken arrow in its place, cocked the bow and pointed it in her direction. A second later the broken arrow whizzed through the air and past her cheek, its blunt head impaling itself in another walker's skull. It hit it with enough force to send it to the ground, but it wasn't enough to kill it.

Getting up once more, Carol staggered towards it and drove her blade into its skull. Out of habit she then removed Daryl's broken arrow as well and returned it to him. He looked exhausted and pale, his body almost hunched over.

Crouching down, she dragged her backpack closer and fished out a second bottle of water which she uncapped. Pouring some of the contents into the palm of her hand, she then began to wash his arms that were just as coated in blood and intestines as her face had been.

"Before you found me," she started, pausing to clear her throat, "I felt completely lost….I felt tired, I had no drive. I couldn't see myself ever leaving that house again. I didn't want to."

Her hands moved up and down his arms, washing him, caressing him and hoping that the physical contact would coax him back to life. His fists were battered, his knuckles bruised. She bent her head and allowed her lips to graze them.

"But I wasn't just tired…I also refused to leave the place where," she hesitated and his eyes curiously darted over her face, "where my latest hopes had been shattered. Tyreese, the girls and I had thought we could stay in that house. We thought that it might not be necessary to move on to Terminus. But things didn't work out…" her lashes fluttered when she blinked and for a moment she was the one seeking comfort in the physical touch, "or perhaps everything worked out the way it was supposed to…I don't know. They moved on but I couldn't. If you hadn't come and saved me, I would've faded away at that house."

Her hands moved up to his shoulders and came to rest there.

"I know you just want to stop running, stop fighting, stop caring. But you'll end up wasting away and Beth wouldn't have wanted that."

"Don't matter what she wanted," he shrugged, "she's dead now. They all are."

"Liar," she managed to produce a little smile as her hand slid up to cup his cheek, "you've cared about my daughter's legacy, Merle's, T-Dog's. You've always cared about what they would've fought for, what they would've wanted you to do. You feel no differently about Beth. It just hurts too much to admit that right now."

Daryl scoffed and shook his head. "Psycho bullshit…"

Carol shrugged, seemingly unfazed, although her heart had briefly constricted at his dismissive response.

"What happened between you and Beth?" she asked carefully, her thumb brushing over his cheek.

It had never occurred to her that there might have been something other than friendship given their age gap, but she had to admit to being curious nonetheless as to what made him so fiercely devoted to finding her as he had been to finding Sophia.

 _Can you look out for them like they're yours?_

"Nothin'," he shrugged her hand off and with much effort rose to his feet.

She wordlessly accepted his response and left it at that, knowing that cornering a hurt animal would only cause it to lash out.

"What now then, mmh?" he grunted, staying out of her reach while slipping his vest on and rummaging through her backpack.

She didn't have a satisfying answer, was despite her motivating paroles just as lost as he was. Everything they had worked for over the last week had been Terminus and the promise of a reunion with the group. For that they had endured thirst and starvation, for that Daryl had tirelessly pressed on despite the damage to his ribs and the never-ending pain. But in the end Terminus had offered no solutions, no homecoming, just bitter disappointment. She didn't have the answers; only knew that while Daryl was with her, giving up was not an option.

"We keep moving…" she responded vaguely and he turned to face her, his jaw grinding down hard on an energy bar.

"To where?"

"I don't know," she admitted with a tired smile. "Away from here and the herd. That food," she paused to point at the wrapper in his hand, "won't last us forever either so a nearby village or town we can scavenge would be our best bet."

"Alright," he shrugged but he didn't sound convinced.

It was difficult to muster up enthusiasm when that sense of direction was lacking. Still it was a small victory that he hadn't refused to come along.

She stepped closer and pretended not to have noticed the wary look he had given her, took the backpack out of his hand and started fishing for a second energy bar. Once she had found what she'd been looking for, she closed the backpack and swung it over her shoulder, alongside Tyreese's gun.

While Daryl collected his things she took a half-hearted bite out of the bar and waited. The heavy flavor of coconut tickled her taste buds but the oats were clumpy and dry and nearly impossible to swallow. Still, she did her best, knowing that she'd be needing the nourishment.

Eventually Daryl nodded at her and they started to trudge off in the other direction than the one they had previously come from. He was quiet and brooding but she didn't comment; was frantically working on coming up with a plan which was easier said than done when her thoughts continued to return to Terminus.

She remembered the whole layout, saw Glenn's pocket watch in Daryl's hand once more and heard his angry accusations.

 _Slaughter house_.

What were the odds that Rick and the rest of the group had made it out alive? They were battle experienced – that much was true – but were they strong enough to take on a group that seemed so well organized?

The odds weren't exactly in their favour and Carol sadly shook her head. She couldn't allow herself to dwell on it or she'd grow just as desperate as Daryl was.

Silence followed them as they continued to walk for hours, their bodies ragged and tired and hardly functioning. Somehow even the tiniest ache was more palpable when there was no goal and no hope.

Where words continued to desert them, they returned to communicating in gestures and touches, a language that had felt more comfortable to both of them since the very first time they had met.

Then, as the sky began turning dark, rain started drizzling down on them, first softly then with growing intensity. They exchanged looks but continued walking until a little while later a lightning bolt lit up the sky and thunder crashed around them.

"We're gonna need shelter." Daryl muttered and she nodded and together they broke into a jog.

Her lungs were still burning and every inch of her body was protesting but the need for survival was overwhelming. The large open road that they had been loosely keeping an eye out for guidance from their hiding place in the woods forked, one path leading directly into a town 4 miles away, the other one into the unknown.

She shot Daryl a questioning look but he only shrugged. Panting and frustrated she growled and started following the first option. 4 miles was too far but perhaps with some luck they'd encounter a deserted house beforehand.

As they paced forwards the storm around them grew, soaking their clothes with rain. Every meter seemed too much and every corner they turned held another broken promise. But then finally Daryl pointed and yelled something, his words swallowed up by another rumble of thunder. She didn't see anything through the sheath of rain that continued to pelt their bodies, but followed him blindly nonetheless.

They left the street behind and climbed up a small hill on the other side. There, barely hidden behind wild-growing bushes was a small shed that seemed to belong to a nearby house. Lightning split the sky in half once more and without wasting any time the pair of them ducked into the shed that stood completely open.

"It's likely the house won't be deserted," Carol panted, while awkwardly swinging the gun around so she had a better grip on it, "are you ready?"

He nodded and cocked his bow. She knew that he was reluctant but also knew that he cared too much about her to let her go ahead alone.

Exchanging another nod they darted outside again and across the yard to the front door. It was locked and wouldn't budge no matter how hard she rattled on it.

"Move." Daryl ordered; his voice was low and behind him another lightning bolt lashed through the air.

She stepped aside and watched him as he collected enough strength and momentum to kick in the door. It swung wildly in its hinges and bounced back against the wall.

Thunder rolled over their heads as they both hurriedly entered the house, closing the front door behind them. With their weapons poised and adrenalin still coursing through their bodies, they burst into the various rooms, scanning them for threats. But they didn't have to search very much.

Alerted by the sound of their footsteps, a couple of walkers appeared at the top of the stairs, snarling curiously. The female wore a dress that hung in shreds over her decaying body, exposing enough flesh to show the thick noose of a rope that had bitten its way into her neck. Her male counterpart seemed to have starved to death, his ribs piercing through the thin layer of skin that barely stretched across them.

"Easy," Daryl muttered under his breath and they both climbed the stairs together, focusing their energy on one walker at a time.

"Do you think that's it?" Carol asked breathlessly, water dripping down her nose.

"Reckon so," he confirmed, "unless some others are trapped somewhere. You know their kind. They ain't hesitating when they hear prey."

She nodded slowly and then looked around the upper floor.

"The living room downstairs is too open, we'd be too exposed." She commented, peering into one of the adjacent rooms. "But this could do."

Daryl followed her closely and stole a glance over her shoulder.

"Master bedroom. Fancy." He snorted as she ventured in further, checking the wardrobes for any sign of walker activity.

But all was quiet.

So she turned her attention towards the bed while Daryl settled down on a grimy looking mattress that had been placed in a reading nook by the window. Being busy seemed to have done him good, Carol noted while dragging the filthy sheets off the bed and tossing them in a pile on the floor. But now that things had calmed down again, she could see the shadows of remembrance stealing over his face, could feel the energy leaving his body. And just like that, with the switch of a button, their reality began to look as bleak as it had done all along.

With the bed turned into a suitable spot for their overnight stay once more, Carol put down the gun and joined Daryl in the nook by the window. She hoped to provide him with a distraction for just a little while longer so that when it was time to go and sleep, he'd be able to rest without nightmares.

"Are you hungry?" she asked, placing the backpack between them.

"Guess," he shrugged but took the can of spaghetti she offered him without argument.

Another second and a well-angled stab of his knife later, he had opened it up and used his hands to scoop the contents into his mouth. The slurping sounds brought a grin to her face.

"What?" he questioned, wiping tomato sauce from his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Nothing," she chuckled tiredly, "just nice knowing that some things don't change."

"Never said I had manners," he muttered, offering the half-empty can to her.

She took it and gave him a soft, small smile.

"I wasn't criticizing."

She lowered her gaze to the spaghetti that seemed to inhabit the can like slimy worms. Momentarily her thoughts drifted back to the house at the grove, to the image she'd seen in the mirror. She could almost taste it still, warm and earthy.

"Ya gotta eat," Daryl interrupted her and the intensity of his eyes made her feel nervous, "I noticed you losing weight."

There was no argument she could offer, especially because she'd barely noticed the change her body had undergone herself. A few glances in stranger's mirrors here and there, but she'd always thought that what she'd seen were her ghosts.

"Haven't we all?" she asked in return, reluctantly scooping up some spaghetti with her fingers and dropping them into her mouth. "We're lucky if we make a find like this."

He nodded but his eyes kept flickering over her face and she knew that he didn't fully believe her.

The harsh cacophony the thunderstorm created continued outside the window while Carol tried focusing solely on her meal. She had to if she wanted to ensure that her thoughts wouldn't wander and that she wouldn't be sick. She was concentrating so much, in fact, that she didn't notice when he leaned in. The brush of his fingers startled her and she nearly spilled the contents of the can on the mattress.

"Sorry," he muttered, looking uncertain and shy, "ya got a cut."

She set down her meal and then lifted her hand up to feel the area around her temple herself. He nodded when she winced.

"Looks like an abrasion or somethin'."

"Must've happened yesterday," she offered.

In response he pulled a water bottle out of her backpack and then removed all other items that had been standing between them. Scooting carefully closer he moistened the tips of his fingers and then ran them carefully and lightly over her wound. It was futile because the rain had already cooled her skin down but she appreciated the gesture nonetheless. The sensation was somewhere between pleasurable and painful. But he looked after her like only very few others had done.

"'m I hurting ya?" he asked nervously.

More of the old familiarity, Carol thought while a serene smile appeared on her face and her heavy lids drifted shut.

"No…" she mumbled, which wasn't entirely true but not a lie either.

She heard him hum before he continued to gently dab at it. Then he pulled away, but she could still feel his eyes dancing over her body. She knew him like she'd once known herself – perhaps even better – he was searching for more injuries that she hadn't reported.

"My shoulder-blade still doesn't feel right but there's little we can do," she informed him, keeping her eyes closed, "and my left shoulder also feels sore now."

She felt his breath graze her face.

It didn't reek of beer.

"Can I?"

Cautiously. Always.

"Mmh…" she hummed and nodded.

He hesitated still for a second or two, but then she felt him tugging her coat over her shoulder. He didn't remove it completely, just allowed it to rest halfway down her arm. Then he tugged her soaked top to the side as well, revealing her skin to him.

"Similar abrasion," he announced, trailing his finger over the pebble-like scabs that had formed there already.

He quickly withdrew his hand again, dipped his fingers into the water bottle and then gently coated her cut with a fresh layer of water.

"I'm glad I made you come with me," he told her and she kept her eyes closed, knowing that this confession would only work while he didn't feel watched, "been doubting that for a while, actually. 'specially yesterday. You said before that you only came to Terminus cause of me. Well, Terminus was a fucking bust. Coulda lost you too…only cause I had to drag ya along. Woulda been on me. Just like Beth."

He cleared his throat uncomfortably, the movement of his fingers never stilling.

"Was thinkin' bout myself. Was fucking selfish. Just needed ya to come along. After Rick…I…" he sighed, "reckoned I wouldn't see ya again. Beth saved me. I treated her like shit…after the prison. Jus' so fucking sick of losing people."

It was difficult listening to him and keeping her eyes shut. Every word – no matter how disjointed – seemed to cost him a great deal of effort.

"Went back to being _him_ for a while. Being a Dixon. Treated her like shit. She put up with it as long as she could, then she…" He paused and exhaled. "Oh I dunno what the hell she did but she saved me. Wouldn't be here without her. Wouldn't be the same. 's what I saw in you. Same change. Had already let down Beth, had lost her. Wasn't gonna let the same happen to you. Could've gotten ya killed but I'm glad now…glad I made ya come along."

"I'm glad, too." She smiled and opened her eyes carefully. "And Beth would've been. I didn't mean what I said to you at the lake, Daryl. I wasn't in my right mind. I knew the risks, knew what I was doing accompanying you to Terminus. I let you save me because I think a part of me wasn't ready to give up yet. It's what we do, right?"

She removed his hand from her shoulder and held it in her own, examined the long gash in it that was fresh and barely covered by a bloodied crust, one that she had somehow overlooked in the morning.

"We keep trying."

He nodded almost unnoticeably, his eyes never leaving hers while she guided his hand to cup her cheek.

"You didn't let her down." She tilted her head so she could press her lips to the laceration. "And you didn't let me down either."


	15. Chapter 14

**A/N: Oh my gosh, guys! I'm so thrilled that you're liking this story and reviewing! Your words really meant a lot to me! :) Here's another chapter of comforting, semi-fluffy stuff before we return to the deep pits of angst and pain. Let me know your thoughts!**

Chapter 14:

They sat in peaceful silence while the rain washed against the window. It was so dark in the room now that they could barely make out anything, except for each other. Carol couldn't remember the last time she had felt like this, comfortable in such close proximity to a man, encouraging his touch, feeling his skin against hers, breathing him in. There was no fear, no suspicion, no disgust; just a warmth in her body as if somebody had lit a fire. And perhaps he had.

Daryl hadn't moved an inch since she had guided his hand to her cheek, he hadn't protested against her words either. He had simply let her be, let her take charge, something so rare in her life, at least when it came to men – the outbreak had forced her into a leading role too many times than she was comfortable with. But men, she thought, those had definitely always been a different story.

She had met Ed Peletier in high school, a broad, funny guy who liked to entertain groups of students with his jokes. She'd been instantly drawn to him, just like the rest, and had been more than a little surprised when this big, strong guy had shown interest in return. With him by her side she'd figured she'd be safe, protected.

It was only a couple of years into their relationship when Carol noticed that the fun guy struggled without an audience which he had lost after leaving high school, a struggle that manifested itself more often than not in angry outbursts directed towards her. She was too plain, too boring, no wonder that people had lost interest in him. These words hit her, brought out the doubts she had had all along.

A quiet, shy person like her and a gregarious man like him?

So she let him go without protest, to bars and clubs and other joints. She didn't question it, didn't want to stand in his way. She hoped it would make him happier to connect to people again more interesting than her.

That's why the first time he hit her came as such a shock. The stinging pain in her cheek was almost deafened by the thundering of her heart.

What had she done wrong?

Why was _she_ so wrong?

The reasons differed, ranging from an uneventful night to her prudishness. Her body still told the story of his accusations and her mistakes.

But in the end the outcome was always the same. When he broke down in tears, begging for her forgiveness, she couldn't help herself. She apologized for her shortcomings, promised to not make him angry anymore and they moved on.

This included a marriage that would mark the beginning of the real nightmare. Where she'd once been too plain, she now was too slutty. Every polite smile she shared with a stranger was seen as flirting. Every new item of clothing that showed as much as her collarbones or ankles was seen as provocative.

Punishment after punishment poured down on her, dyeing her skin in all colours of the rainbow. Only there was no hope at the end of it. She became his puppet then, a mindless dummy whose strings got frequently twisted around her own limbs, breaking them apart.

But even broken she followed except for one thing. Ed frequently expressed his desire for a family though she doubted that his motives were brought forth by deep, paternal urges. She knew what he craved was the last little trophy in his collection, the last thing separating him from creating the perfect image.

But she refused to comply, refused to bring another creature into the world that would be abused and mistreated or molded into a replica, taught to disrespect women similarly. She took the pill and kept it a secret, better he should break her bones for another failure.

But of course he found out, he always did. And the punishment was worse than anything he'd ever done before. Even in his wildest rages she'd never expected him to violate her so intimately.

She discovered new ways to be broken that year but she also learned how to put herself together. Resilience was a form of strength, even if she didn't realize it yet. Her child, her Sophia, was another one.

But how she wished she could've done more for her, back then and especially towards the end when the man who wasn't her father, the man who was now sitting opposite Carol still patiently waiting, had risked his life.

His eyes glistened in the dark, watching her. There was no greed in them, no expectation. Just mild curiosity and perhaps a little bit of hope. They hadn't mentioned the kiss at the lake anymore. Her mind had been too occupied with practicalities, plans and possibilities. Then Terminus had happened and driven any such thought to the back of her head. Survival was more important and ensuring that he'd be alright.

But now she could see that he'd perhaps been waiting for an explanation all along, a clarification at the very least.

What did the kiss mean?

It meant that Daryl was everything Ed had never been. It meant that he was the only one she simultaneously wanted to stay alive for but was also willing to sacrifice herself for. It meant that he was the only one who made her feel like she was back in high school: Jittery, fumbling and much too shy. But he also made her feel radiant and empowered. It meant that Daryl Dixon was the beginning and the end of her. But damned if she ever found the courage to tell him that.

A week ago when the loss of Mika and Lizzie had still ruptured freshly through her whole body, her attachment to him, her attachment to anyone had seemed terrifying. Now she wondered how she'd ever thought she could fight it.

"Whatcha thinkin'?" he asked, his voice was calm.

Her eyes met his and she broke into a small smile.

"Where we'll go from here."

"And?"

His thumb started to trace her jawline.

"Somewhere safe," she replied, resisting the urge to let her eyes drift shut.

"Like what?"

His fingers smelled of tomato sauce.

"A big city, maybe, perhaps we'll be better protected there."

"I dunno," he frowned, "could be really stupid, too. Overrun by walkers or controlled by more maniacs."

"True," she agreed, placing a last kiss on the palm of his hand before slipping off the mattress, "let's think about it. It's _our_ future."

She took off her wet coat completely that had started to heavily cling to her skin. She began to shiver as if she'd only just noticed the cold the water had caused.

"Alright," he nodded as he swung his legs over the side of the mattress as well, letting his boots come into contact with the floor, "I'll booby-trap the front door, just in case."

"Be careful!" she called, while he picked up the backpack and his knife and then retreated through the door.

Carol watched him go and then turned towards the wardrobe. Perhaps she could find some dry clothes there. It was funny which things had become a luxury now – like warm water, food or a change of clothes – and which actions once deemed inappropriate had turned into habits.

She remembered the first time she had scavenged through someone's belongings. It had been on the highway, just before she'd lost Sophia. For a long time after she'd seen her daughter's death as punishment for her greed. After all, if she hadn't been so focused on the material treasures she wouldn't have been separated from Sophia when the small herd appeared. She'd felt guilty for being drawn in by something as trivial as a shirt – one that Ed would never had allowed her to wear – that it would distract her enough to lose sight of her daughter. She'd scolded herself harshly for having given in to her own wants and wishes, for having hoped and required, for the same perfectly human emotions her husband had always punished her for.

Nowadays she didn't feel much of anything anymore. Nowadays there was only indifference, at least when it came to finding and keeping things that didn't belong to her. Nowadays she wasn't herself.

Most of the clothes smelled musty and damp but they were dry at least and so she gathered as many of them as she could find. A pair of trousers, some sweatshirts as well as a T-shirt.

She paused and listened out for the sound of Daryl's footsteps but all was quiet. So seizing the opportunity she pulled her top over her head and dropped it on the floor, followed by her bra. She could hear wood creaking below and quickly put on the T-shirt. Then, when there was still no sign of Daryl, she kicked off her boots and dragged her wet trousers down. The skin underneath was reddened and cold to the touch. She put the new pair on and then tried to hang up her wet clothes as best as she could. With a little bit of luck they'd be dry in the morning.

She glanced towards the doorway a last time, feeling some uneasiness prickling in her stomach because he hadn't returned yet, then crawled onto the bed and tried to settle down.

Tyreese's machine gun remained on the floor, close enough to grab it in a second should the need arise. But her knife stayed closer to her body; that was the only way if she wanted to try and get some sleep.

Finally, the sound of the front door closing indicated Daryl's return though it still took a couple of minutes before he entered the room. His hair was soaked and little droplets of water were making their way down his face, arms and chest.

"Walkers outside?" Carol asked, breaking into a frown.

"Nah," he shrugged, setting her backpack down on the floor, "thought I could put that snare trap to some use. Woods nearby and soft soil, easier to hide it, easier to catch somethin'."

Noticing her glance he self-consciously wiped his dirty hands on his trousers.

"Good thinking," she smiled, "I've found some clothes-"

"Yeah, I noticed," he interrupted her, smirking suddenly, "you look ridiculous."

"Well, better ridiculous than wet." She shot back, her eyes glistening playfully.

He chuckled – although he tried passing it off as a snort and remained routed on the threshold.

"Come here, I'm not gonna bite," she said and then added with a grin, "unless you want me to."

What was it about him that brought out this side in her?

"Stop," he remarked like he always did when he didn't know what to do with himself and so she waved him closer.

"I still have a sweatshirt left. Might fit you better than it does me."

His eyes nervously darted across the room and momentarily grew wide at the sight of her bra, draped across the edge of the wardrobe. His hand started fidgeting at the side of his leg and she knew how embarrassed he had become.

"Nah, I'm alright."

He suddenly developed an interest in the floor.

"You're wet and cold," she shook her head and then tossed the sweatshirt towards him which he barely managed to catch, "I promise I won't look."

She hoped that he understood that she wasn't teasing him any longer, that she was simply trying to demonstrate that she respected his boundaries.

Daryl had always been very careful not to bare his body, even when he was injured and in considerable pain. He never spoke much about the life with his father and Merle but they'd instantly recognized a survivor of abuse in each other. She'd never forget the way he'd flinched when she'd tried to extend her thanks to him for the very first time.

With her eyes still averted she heard him shift, heard how his shirt and the heavy vest hit the floor.

"Won't dry like that." She told him, her eyes directed towards the wall.

She was certain that he rolled his eyes.

"Yes, mom."

She chuckled and turned towards him when she felt his weight on the mattress. It was difficult not to laugh at how foreign he looked in the sweater.

"Found this while I was lookin' round downstairs," he began before she had a chance to comment.

Curiously, she took the item he had extended to her. A pocket sized but still crinkled A-Z road map of the United States that had his wet fingerprints all over it.

"Thought it'd be handy picking our next location."

Her fingers stopped leafing through it and she looked up to meet his eyes. "Thought you didn't think it was a good idea."

"It ain't," he shrugged, "there ain't no good ideas left anymore. But perhaps you're right and we'll find better shelter in a city or at least some stronger drugs, this fucking rib's kickin' my ass."

Carol's gaze instantly shifted towards his torso and she guiltily realized that she hadn't checked up on it in a while.

"N maybe…" she heard the hesitation in his voice and knew what he was about to say, although it made her marvel at his ability to keep hoping, "maybe we'll find out what happened to Beth. Maybe they didn't take her to Terminus. The car that took her had crosses on the window. Ain't seen anything like that there."

She saw now that the demons that haunted him plagued him differently than her own. Where hers were full of warnings and threats, his seemed to drive him forward one moment, then paralyse him with despair and guilt the next. A dangerous combination that sooner or later couldn't only cost him his sanity but also his life.

And so she couldn't bring herself to tell him about the crosses that she'd seen at the strange altar room which the fire had almost devoured; she refused to become another player in a game that could damage him so.

"Yes," she nodded instead and tried staying busy by flipping through the pages once more, "Augusta seems like the closest big city…or Columbia."

"What I thought," he agreed, "can't make it by foot though."

"Gordon is less than 4 miles away now. We could search there for a car, gather supplies and gas as well?"

He nodded and for a moment the shadow of a smile passed over his face. Just like her he needed to stay busy.

"Well, in that case…" she offered another smile to him to ease the nervousness that still had him frozen on his spot on the mattress, "we better try and get some sleep. Tomorrow's going to be a busy day."

The sentiment sounded laughably normal, as if she was just ushering her daughter off to bed before a new school week began. Memories of Sophia washed over her features and aged her for a split second, long enough for Daryl to notice the change.

"Saw a blanket downstairs on the couch…seen better days. But I can get it if you're cold."

It was a clumsy attempt but he didn't have to say the words for her to understand him. She nodded thankfully and watched him go while she settled back against the pillow.

He didn't take long to return this time and cautiously lay down next to her, spreading the blanket over both of their bodies. Outside, the worst of the storm had subsided and only the trees continued to sway in the lingering breeze.

"Sleep, I'll keep ya safe." He promised her, drawing her carefully towards him so that she was curled up against his body.

And unlike Ed she knew that these weren't empty words. Almost instinctively she buried her face against his neck that was still wet from the rain, and wrapped her arm around his torso, making sure that it didn't rest on his ribcage. Unknowingly he had handed to her another luxury: peace. And as her eyes drifted shut and her body relaxed she swore that one of these days she would tell him just how much this meant to her.


	16. Chapter 15

**A/N: Thanks for sticking with this, guys! Two quick notes: 1. This is super long, please bear with it! 2. Please don't kill me. I'll make it alright again, I promise.**

Chapter 15:

Daryl had always been a light sleeper – the couple of days when he had first stumbled across Carol and his body had been so beaten and exhausted that he couldn't help but sleep being an exception. But now things started to return to their old patterns again. He had been awake long after she'd fallen asleep against him and he was awake long before she awoke.

There was something about the closeness of another person, someone warm and soft and utterly trusting of him that both terrified and thrilled him. It wasn't how most of his life had worked and he felt so inapt at handling it now, constantly fearing that one wrong move would frighten it away.

So that's why nervous excitement had taken most of the sleep from him. He'd been too aware of her or too distracted by the smallest sounds, trying to decipher if they could evolve into potential threats or not.

He tilted his head carefully to look at her, hoping not to wake her. Outside, the sun had just begun to rise and its first rays lazily stretched up across the crowns of the trees and crawled in through the window faintly illuminating the room. Carol looked peaceful with her lips slightly parted and her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. It was the first time he'd seen her this relaxed since their encounter at the house in the grove but knowing that he was the one who'd brought this change about was as surprising as it was wonderful.

"Are you watching me?" her lips curled into a smile against his skin.

"Was wonderin' if you're awake…" he mumbled, feeling caught and so hurriedly averted his eyes, "my arm's startin' to hurt."

It wasn't at all what he had meant to say but then again, what could he have said that wouldn't have sounded like something straight out of some goddamn chick flick?

 _Romance is dead, lil brother. You gotta be direct with women. They'll respond to that._

"Sorry."

Carol's smile grew bigger while she sleepily opened her eyes and tried to orientate herself. When you were constantly on the move it became increasingly difficult to remember where it was that you had last fallen asleep at.

"Do you want to get going?"

She pushed herself into a semi-sitting position and watched him do the same while rolling his shoulder.

"Yeah," he nodded, "got lots to do."

"So the plan is to head into Gordon, find some supplies and a car?"

"Yup, gotta go from there then. If we find one early enough we could start heading to Augusta, if not we gotta think of another plan."

"Alright," she nodded encouragingly, "hand me the backpack?"

Daryl shifted away, retrieved it from the floor and then set it down between them.

"Unless you fancy some vegetables, I suggest we share the last energy bar for breakfast?"

She pulled it out of the backpack and held it questioningly in the air.

"Go ahead." He shrugged and proceeded to watch her eat like he had done the previous night.

When she had eaten her share, she handed it back to him and got off the bed. She removed the knife whose cold metal had been pressing against her skin from beneath the waistband of her pants and placed it down on the bed. Then she turned her back to Daryl again and pulled the sweater over her head.

She felt his eyes on her, tingling up and down her spine but with great effort she reminded herself that now wasn't the time nor the place to give in to it and so she only pulled her bra off the edge of the wardrobe and began dressing herself. By the hurried rustling of fabric she could tell that he had seized the opportunity to do the same.

Wordlessly they settled into their routine; stashing away clothes, checking weapons and making sure they hadn't left anything valuable behind.

The old wood creaked as they made their way downstairs but otherwise everything was quiet.

"Hang on a sec," he hummed and walked past her towards the entrance of the house that he had booby-trapped the previous night by applying a thick film of several layers of tape just an inch away from the front door from one wall to the other and by distributing broken shards of glass that seemed to have once formed a wine bottle across the floor.

Carol watched him sweep them away with the sole of his boot and then began tugging the tape loose with great effort. Apparently he had hoped that intruders pushing against the door would make it catch in the tape a couple of times, so that they would be forced to apply more pressure and tumble into the house and across the glass shards before they could notice them lying there. The sound would've alerted them no doubt; alertness was a general state of mind these days.

Returning his nod she followed him outside where the air was still moist and fresh from the rain.

"Gonna check on the trap before we leave, alright?" he asked and she nodded a second time, watching him disappear into the line of trees that marked the border of the property.

A light breeze filled the air and leaves whispered in the background, making her suddenly aware of how exposed she was and how vulnerable she felt without him, just like she had done the very first day Rick had exiled her. Stranded and alone with your own thoughts was a dangerous state to be in nowadays.

Gooseflesh crawled up her skin and she pulled the coat she was wearing tighter around her shoulders. He wouldn't be much longer.

 _Daddy said he'd play with me. Big, disappointed eyes staring up at her from the laundry cabinet. I've been hiding for forever! A glance to the living room, to the flickering TV screen, the discarded socks, the beer bottle. He won't be much longer, sweetheart, I promise._

Her sigh was heavy, filled with longing. So many memories of her little girl, so many sad ones. Better than the last one, she supposed, but still not as good as the image Daryl had suggested she'd carry in her heart.

Some days were harder than others, especially those when she had dared to relax. Forgetting prickled like betrayal at the edges of her memories.

The mixture of wet soil and gravel warned her just in time to spin around and draw her knife.

"Did somethin' happen?" Daryl asked, looking only mildly surprised while she withdrew the weapon again.

"No, you just startled me."

She put on a brave smile, didn't want to admit to him that all the progress she thought she had made had been wiped away in a single moment, a moment in which she could've sworn to have seen a blue-eyed girl hiding out in the shed that was facing them.

His smile looked more pensive than doubtful while he peeled the backpack off her body and placed the dirty trap back into it. Her old self would've cringed at the mess this created, her current self had more important things to think about.

"Caught nothin'," he explained unnecessarily as she pulled the straps over her shoulders again, "would've been surprising if I had."

"It was still worth a shot," she told him with a little smile, "and you didn't take any risks setting it up. No time wasted, no harm done."

She gave his hand a soft squeeze and then began walking towards the main road. A faint mist had appeared and was hovering just above the tarmac as they were making their way towards Gordon but the comradely silence that was hanging between them was making Carol increasingly anxious.

What if her thoughts were to drift back to the dangerous issue?

What if they would take over again?

Searching for something to say to him, something to otherwise occupy her mind with she noticed him playing with something, Glenn's pocket watch that his hands rhythmically opened and closed over.

"Do you think Maggie was there as well?"

He glanced at the watch and then at her.

"Dunno…dunno if they made it out of the prison together."

She hummed and nodded, saw the dark shadow of anger pass over his face once more.

"I'm not sure if I should hope so or not." She commented quietly.

"Always thought it was stupid," Daryl shrugged.

"What was?"

"Their relationship…"

She arched an eyebrow, asking him to clarify. She was certain that he didn't mean it as bluntly as he had put it.

"What?" he shrugged again. "Falling for someone when the world's gone to shit can't be very smart."

He glanced at her quickly and almost guiltily and she could feel her lips curl into a smile.

"Sure," she acknowledged, "it isn't a particularly smart move but then no attachments are."

"Yeah but…" he tried to argue, clenching his hand around the pocket watch again, "that's different. We gotta help each other out…is human, I guess…or selfish cause we wanna survive and can't make it alone. So falling in love is one thing but actually starting a relationship? I dunno…"

Another glance in her direction, almost as if he was checking if she agreed or not.

"I know what you mean," she smiled wistfully, "because you're starting something new, you're getting more and more involved with that person. But maybe if you're in love like they are there'd be nothing keeping you apart either way."

Daryl's contemptuous scoff only made her chuckle.

"You know it's true," she persisted, keeping her focus on the road straight ahead, "or would you be able to stay away from someone you loved?"

The question hung between them, unanswered but Carol hadn't expected him to. She was long past the point where she needed to hear a great confession. He had shown her time and time again, so she knew.

The sun moved higher in the sky, trying desperately to pierce the mist that had grown thicker since they had left.

"Gonna complicate things," Daryl muttered, a look of deep concern on his face.

And he was right. With visibility considerably reduced it would be easier to be caught off-guard by walkers. They were largely dependent on their sense of hearing now while the walkers seemed to move blindly most of the time anyway, already used to relying on their sense of hearing and smelling or whatever else it was that drove them forward.

"Let's have our knives ready," Carol suggested and Daryl nodded.

He put the water bottle he'd been carrying, as well as the road map into his trouser pockets and took out his weapon. A tense silence fell between them this time while they cautiously progressed towards the beginning of the small town.

And not a second too late.

From one moment to the next the air was suddenly filled with bodiless snarls. Occasionally Carol thought to have seen a movement, a blur of colour in the whiteness of the mist but none of them moved in to attack yet.

Instinctively, they both shifted closer to each other and crossed the town line with their elbows touching. Daryl was on the lookout to their right, Carol covered their left.

Snarls and groans everywhere, some louder than others; it sounded as if half of Gordon's population had joined the death march.

"Should we grab one of them again?" Carol asked quietly.

"Don't matter," Daryl replied, "we're here for a car. The minute we start making noise our cover will be blown. I say we get in and out. If it's too dangerous we gotta move on. No point in going back now and risk passing through here again."

She nodded curtly, her body buzzing with adrenaline.

They advanced as they did before, each keeping an eye out for the other.

The sneak attack came nonetheless.

There was a split second in which she felt something hard and bony wrapping itself around her ankle and then she was on the ground. She heard the loud and angry snarl that intermingled with her own scream of surprise which had escaped her despite her best efforts of stifling it in her shirt. She could sense warm, hungry breath or perhaps she was just imagining it, then Daryl was on the walker and her ankle got released.

Her elbows were burning from the way they had impacted on the ground but there was no time to lose. Her scream had sounded like a gunshot through the overrun city and more and more walkers started emerging from the mist.

"Go!" Daryl ordered and yanked her back up on her feet and they both broke into a run.

The walkers couldn't give chase but didn't abandon them either and from the road in front of them more and more appeared, seemingly out of the blue so that Daryl and Carol often bumped up against their decomposing bodies.

Daryl had his hand firmly wrapped around her wrist, determined to tug her free should another walker sneak up on her. There was no way he'd allow her to become separated, there was no way he'd lose her like he had lost Beth.

But the road ahead was a hard one.

More bodies, more dead. Groaning, grasping, teeth flashing. They battled on. Pushing, shoving, killing as many as they could, until their arms grew tired from the same old movement, but even then they had to keep going.

"There!" he panted, pointing through the mist where the road right ahead of them forked.

She squinted, trying to make out what he had spotted and a couple of steps later she could finally see it, too. An auto shop, its yard littered with the skeletons of abandoned vehicles, its windows shattered or otherwise murky.

They both knew that spare parts and other useful tools were likely to be inside, but there was no quick way of gaining access through the shutter door.

"Let's grab a car and go!" he suggested breathlessly, checking over his shoulder for more walkers emerging from the mist.

"That one!" she shouted, pointing at a faded blue pick-up truck.

If they managed to get it out of Gordon unscathed it would be the perfect vehicle to transport supplies on their long drive to Augusta and beyond. Carol quickly jogged ahead, dragging him along this time and inspected the car. The sounds of the dead still echoed all around them and they knew that they only had a small window of opportunity if they wanted to make it out alive.

So without hesitation Carol yanked the truck door open, sending yet another groaning body onto the ground in front of her. Daryl crushed its head beneath his boot easily.

She hurriedly stuck her head inside the truck, weapon poised, to see if another unwelcome guest inhibited it. But all was clear, only the heavy stench of decay hung sickeningly in the air.

"Key's in ignition," she announced, flinging her backpack onto the backseat.

She didn't hear his response but quickly slammed the door shut and started the truck up and then drove off the second he had climbed in on the other side.

"Gonna run out of gas soon," she told him as they floored it out of the yard of the auto shop and across the train tracks that had once held such promise of hope.

Dead bodies tumbled into their path only to be squashed under the wheels of their car a second later.

"There!" Daryl yelled, startling her so much that she only narrowly avoided hitting a lamppost.

She cursed but forgave him a moment later when she saw a gas station looming across the street and just ahead of them. So she accelerated again to bridge the gap as quickly as possible. But the euphoria subsided as fast as it had come.

The minute they switched off the car they heard it, the hum, the buzz, that instantly reminded them of the herd they had encountered outside of Terminus. And as they turned to see where it was coming from they noticed that while the station itself was deserted, the parking lot on the other side of the road that seemed to have belonged to a supermarket, was crawling with walkers, all of which had been alerted by the sound of their car.

Carol glanced longingly at the gas pump that was just outside her window but Daryl shook his head.

"No chance. Get us out of here. We'll find a top up somewhere else."

And sighing deeply, Carol twisted the key in ignition once more, turned the car around and raced eastwards and away from the town.

Her heart was pounding heavily in her chest even after they had left everything behind and the street ahead of them was starting to clear. The panic and the constant fear for safety seemed to have gnawed its way into the very foundation of her body and she doubted that she'd ever be able to fully shake it off.

Next to her, Daryl's tension seemed to have morphed into more practical determination. He had extracted the road map from his trouser pocket and seemed to try and confirm their whereabouts by occasionally glancing out the window when a street sign whizzed past them.

"Stick to this road," he muttered after a bit, "it'll lead us to another small town and maybe we'll have enough time to get some gas there before we head off to Augusta."

"Don't you think it'll be overrun as well?" she asked, keeping her eyes on the road, always on the lookout for another herd that could bring their trip to a permanent end.

"Gonna find out in a moment." His voice was low and his expression grim and she knew that he was also still anticipating an attack.

They drove for a small while, past long stretches of field and forest and across a giant lake where they dared to roll down their windows to let the stench of decay escape the car. Buildings became scarce but they still noticed the walkers that lingered near the houses or tumbled across the street.

Their instinct to run drove them further and further until, finally, another sign announced their arrival at the nearby town Daryl had located on the map. It was there that Carol slowed down the car again and forced herself to be on the lookout for a gas station, a supermarket or any other store they could get supplies from.

The whole area stood in stark contrast to Gordon as it was almost eerily silent with no sign of life.

"Gotta turn right at the next intersection," Daryl told her but before they had reached it they both saw something that changed their mind.

A gas station on the left hand corner, as if it had been waiting for them all along. Carol accelerated and then parked next to one of the pumps, checking for any sign of walker activity before climbing out.

"You fill her up, I'll look around for a container so we have some backup once we hit the road."

She nodded and watched him walk away, his body hunched, his bow aimed and ready. She worried about him when he disappeared out of sight, even though she knew that he could handle himself, but their best bet was indeed to get back into the car and out of the region quickly and, therefore, it was vital that she did her bit while he was gone.

So she started filling up the car but her elation at having found a gas station at such a prime location instantly vanished when the nozzle started to sputter and the numbers on the dial stopped moving. They hadn't been the only ones who had needed gas to make a speedy escape.

Daryl returned a moment later, the crossbow slung back over his shoulder, two canisters in his hands. He could see by the expression on her face that something was wrong.

"Empty?"

"Practically," she sighed, "everything that was left is now in the truck."

"Alright," he hummed and tossed the containers into the cab, "gotta do for now then."

She shared a small smile with him and then opened the door to climb back into the truck.

"Out back there's a high school," Daryl told her, slipping inside as well, "dyou reckon we could scavenge there for food? Ought to have a canteen or somethin'."

Carol nodded and put the car into gear, although she felt an odd sense of trepidation bubbling up in her stomach.

"It's not overrun?" she asked, as they drove around the corner and the building came into view.

"Ain't seen nothin'," he shrugged, "cause could be different inside."

Swallowing against the growing nervousness she drove the truck onto the parking lot and then left it at the side of the building, close enough to the front doors should they need to make a hasty escape. They didn't leave any of their belongings behind and carefully approached the entrance of the school.

The doors were open but the coat of blood that had tainted it as well as the floors didn't bode well.

More panic, more fear and a growing sense of nausea.

"Let's split up," she blurted out, "we'll find the canteen quicker that way. Once we've located it we'll whistle, okay?"

Daryl looked surprised at her suggestion and eyed her with soft concern. "Ya feelin' alright?"

"Sure," she replied quickly, too quickly and spun around on her heels so he couldn't analyse her further. "In and out, right? I'll take this side." And she started marching off.

She didn't hear his footsteps dwindling away but felt his eyes on her still and so increased her pace. She couldn't explain to him why panic had gripped her so strongly. She didn't want to discuss the possible reasons. She just wanted to find supplies and leave.

Turning the corner, she felt great relief when she caught sight of the first sign pointing towards the canteen. It couldn't be very far now.

Cold sweat made her shirt stick to her back and her heart pounded forebodingly against her ribcage.

Just like the front door, the large double doors that led into the canteen weren't locked so with her knife in the air Carol advanced into the darkness that instantly swallowed her up. It was almost impossible to see a thing as the canteen was situated in the middle of the building and didn't have windows. Another opportunity when the flashlight they had found could've come in handy. But she was too close to her goal to back out now.

The first time she heard the sound it was so faint that she quickly convinced herself that she had imagined it.

Wiping her forehead with the back of the hand that was holding the knife she proceeded, peering into the dark where nothing stirred. Something soft brushed up against her foot and startled her but when she bent down to investigate she saw that it was only a coat. Breathing in deeply she dropped it onto the floor again.

That's when the sound returned a second time.

Soft, quiet whimpering that seemed to emanate from behind the counter.

She forced herself not to call out and quickly moved further.

Another obstacle on the floor, heavy enough to make her trip this time. She landed on her knees and her knife noisily clattered away from her. She fumbled around to grasp it again and then inspected the obstacle that had made her fall.

A corpse with a large hole in its head, nearby a gun.

Out of habit she stuffed the weapon into the waistband of her trousers where it instantly stained her clothes with blood.

The whimpering had turned into a soft sniffling now, occasionally interrupted by the smallest of hiccups.

Her breathing was coming ragged and chased now, the sense of foreboding was growing.

 _It can't be. Please don't let it be._ She prayed but one look over the counter confirmed what she had instinctively known since the first moment she had heard that sound.

The little child had sought refuge in between two shelves of a cabinet that had once been used for food preparation. It seemed to have its arms wrapped around its knees, its deadly skinny body shaking with every whimper.

"It…it's okay," Carol tried, climbing clumsily over the counter, "they're gone now, you're safe."

But the sniffling sound began to build up, changing into the terrified wail of a toddler.

 _It's alright, Sophia, sssh, daddy will stop yelling in a minute._

"Hey," her voice cracked, "I'm not one of them. Don't be afraid, I'll help you."

She took another step closer, careful not to startle it.

Its bony shoulders shook.

Another step closer.

Was it the lack of light or did its skin look ashen?

"Don't worry, little boy, I'll get you out of here."

She was almost there now.

"I'll just pick you up now, okay? I'll pick you up and I'll bring you out to my friend and we'll look after you."

She reached out her hand and placed it on the little one's shoulder, then everything happened at once.

The little boy spun around, its eyes white and pupil-less, its mouth unnaturally wide open, a mask of death. The wailing sound of a toddler transformed into loud and angry shrieks that pierced her eardrums.

More sounds erupted all around her as if the whole school had suddenly come to life but Carol remained paralysed on the spot, the dead toddler in her arms.

"No…" her voice sounded oddly far away and the screams continued.

Its mouth opened and closed, so far that the jaw almost unhinged itself but it made no attempt to bite her.

Perhaps it was too young.

Tears rolled down her cheeks and her body shook while the cacophony around her grew. She barely heard it though, barely heard anything except for the ringing in her ears.

Her eyes remained glued to the little dead boy who had been failed, who hadn't been saved just like the little girls she'd been entrusted with. Children had once been called the hope for the future. This world had sacrificed so many of them that it was impossible to feel hope any longer.

A scuffle was happening not far from her, there was bumping and slashing. The toddler's skin felt icy against hers.

"Carol!"

Was that her name being bellowed?

She thought she recognized that voice. She thought she recognized that name.

 _We'll name her Sophia. It means wisdom._

"Carol!"

The name again, then someone touched her.

"Oh God…"

She tilted her head to look at him, tears clouding her light blue eyes, dripping down her chin. A look passed between them.

 _Too late._

Her body was wrecked with sobs, sounds so loud they almost drowned out the noise the toddler was making.

"Carol," he cleared his throat, "we gotta go _now_! This ain't safe."

She locked eyes with the toddler once more and shook her head. "I can't…"

"You don't have to…"

"Sophia, Mika, Lizzie, Judith…it's enough!" she yelled and once it was out, she couldn't stop.

She screamed and screamed until her voice was raw. Screamed for the unfairness of the world that had taken so many little children from her and their parents. Screamed until no sound came out.

But the tears didn't stop so easily.

"Carol…please…"

The toddler had become unsettled by her behavior and had begun to wiggle about in her arms. Its nails had dug grooves into her skin, its pointy teeth became visible now.

"I can't…" she whispered, "not another one…not again…"

"He'll be at rest then, Carol." Daryl persisted and gently lifted the little boy out of her arms.

It began thrashing around now, snarling like the rest of its kind, it's head bobbing about to find the right angle to attack. Still, Daryl cradled it in his arms like a newborn before turning his back to her.

"Sssh," he whispered, then everything fell silent.


	17. Chapter 16

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews, lovely people! :) I finished this story today so once it's beta'd I'll be able to update more often. :) Let me know your thoughts!**

Chapter 16:

The air was stale and empty. Not a single sound broke the silence. No snarls, no shrieking. And yet…and yet everything was far from peaceful…and yet everything was far from alright.

She could still feel its skin, icy and taut.

She could still feel her skin, soft and tender, newborn just like the strength she'd given her.

Something large and slimy seemed to inhibit her body, moving around in her stomach, climbing its way up to the surface. Carol shivered but the urge to vomit passed.

She could hear her blood pumping and coursing through her body, keeping her alive. A mistake, a terrible mistake. Surely she was dead by now? She felt dead.

"There'll be more, Carol."

The man, Daryl, was talking to her again. She could see his lips move, could see his outstretched hand that was covered in something dark. She shook her head. He wiped it on his pants, self-consciously, angrily. Then he held it out to her again.

"Come on."

Her eyes fell on the boy then. Still like the air around them but not peaceful. Not yet. His little mouth still formed a scream, something dark was oozing out of his skull.

And the tears returned anew, flowing down her face, dripping into her empty lap. Where her daughter had once lain, measuring the length of her thigh. So tiny, so defenseless.

"I've failed…" the woman sobbed, deeply, guttural.

She didn't sound like her, she was unrecognizable.

"Ya…ya didn't…" the man called Daryl sounded uncertain, fumbling to find the right words, "ya don't have a mean bone in ya body."

She fell apart then, snapped in two in front of her own eyes, as if she was watching someone else coming undone. Her body shook, pushed her forward on all fours until it wasn't just the saltiness of tears clinging to her chin. Panting…ragged, chased.

Then a hand on her shoulder that she tried shrugging off but that wouldn't budge. She wiped at her mouth and continued to stare at the floor, weeping, uttering indecipherable words. Something about forgiveness, pain, despair. They were more like sounds than words, a chaos of scrambled letters, whispers and sobs.

"Carol!"

He sounded determined now and pulled her back up to her feet where she managed to stand for all of two seconds before her knees buckled under her again and he was forced to catch her.

"Just lean on me…cmon…let's go…"

His arm was holding her in place, his crossbow was in his other, pointing at the empty air ahead of them. He made sure that she didn't pass out, made sure that she dragged one foot in front of the other.

"I can't leave him…"

Finally she had a voice again, finally there was language despite the tears that refused to dry.

Daryl stopped and she could see the questions in his eyes, as well as the shock when he considered the possible answers.

"We can't take him along."

"He's all alone…in the dark…please…"

A fresh sob broke from her throat and he nodded hurriedly.

"Hold on to the wall. Watch your step. I'll carry him."

He moved back and picked up the little boy, cradling him against his chest. She couldn't bring herself to watch anymore and began to walk again.

Everything about her shook with emotion.

And there were so many corpses in their path, too many.

Her knife was in her hand, she couldn't remember how it had got there, couldn't remember what to do with it. It had something to do with the sounds, she thought, with the icy hands that tried to grab her. Surely she should use that knife. But the corpses disappeared, fell to the ground or broke apart.

She didn't know how he could remember what to do, she didn't know how he could have the energy to continue.

The light that flooded in through the front doors was harsh and unnatural and she only reluctantly moved towards it, aware of his presence behind her, their presence.

If she turned to look at him, even one glance, it would be her undoing. She'd never leave this place.

Her fingertips pressed against the bloodied doors and pushed them open. Outside the air was cooling down, making her tear-stained face feel as icy as the little boy who had caused them.

"I'll bury him here, alright? In the sunshine?"

His question, the consideration he always showed for her decisions, made her chin tremble anew. She closed her eyes and released a shaky breath, willing the tears away that were forming yet again.

 _He'll be alone still._ She wanted to tell him but there was no way either of them could prevent that. Her Sophia had been alone, too.

It was impossible to summon up enough strength to answer him, but she knew that he would register the small nod she gave. He jumped into action almost instantly and the moment she heard his footsteps fading away she began trudging towards the car.

Despite the tears that still came so readily she felt empty now, numb.

The car door creaked when she pulled it open and climbed inside where the heat enveloped her like a blanket. But she still felt cold, shivered, and drew her coat closer around her shoulders.

From the corner of her eye she saw his movements, saw him digging a grave for the boy. So small, too small.

 _Graves of that size shouldn't have to exist._ She thought.

That was true for the world then as it was for the world now. Certain things were just too painful and too unjust.

Her head lolled to the right so that her forehead touched the window, too weak to hold its own weight, too weak to watch the burial taking place. Instead she focused on the building, although she wasn't really seeing that either.

Silently the seconds ticked by.

Then the car door on the other side opened and he jumped inside. He'd been carrying her gun and her backpack. She hadn't noticed that before. His eyes never left her face but she couldn't reciprocate. She was just too tired. Eventually he stopped, dropped all the items on the backseat and turned the key in ignition.

Slowly they drove out of the parking lot, past the fresh grave that a single flower adorned and away from the school. But no matter the distance, her thoughts lingered with the little boy that lay wrapped up in the warm earth now.

Were his parents still out there searching for him? Or were they waiting for him in a place better than this?

Like Mika and Lizzie's father? Surely he'd welcome them with open arms, a warm embrace of reassurance. But he'd never forgive her, she who had broken her promise, she who had failed to protect his girls from this fate.

And what about Sophia? Who had been waiting for her? Who had been there to reassure _her_ little girl?

How could she feel empty and ache so terribly at the same time?

When had she started running out of answers?

It took a little while before their car stopped for the first time. Again, she felt his eyes on her, asking her silent questions.

"Gonna see if there's some gas," he informed her when she didn't react, waited yet another moment expectantly and then slipped outside.

The vehicle shook when his door fell shut and she closed her eyes. Her chest was heavy, her body tired but she knew that sleep would continue eluding her for another while longer.

Outside, she could hear the noises Daryl was creating. The clank of the canisters as he lifted them back onto the truck, the smash of breaking glass, then silence.

All the while she remained in the car, her thoughts chasing each other in the same lazy circle.

"Ya don't have a bad bone in ya body." That's what he had said. Oh how history repeated itself. Except she wasn't anything her Sophia had been. Except he didn't know the truth yet about Mika and Lizzie and their untimely end.

The door opened and he joined her, dropping more items on the backseat. By the sound of it they were energy bars or something of the like covered in a wrapper. His breathing sounded quick and rough, as if he'd been fighting again. She couldn't bring herself to ask for details, was glad for the hum of the motor that created some sound between them.

This time they drove until the sky turned dark. They didn't encounter any obstacles nor did Daryl make any sound that could've indicated trouble ahead, but she felt them all around her. Bodies standing watch on either side of the street, unseeing eyes that stared ahead and faces that lit up white and pale when they passed just like streetlights might have done. She didn't need to look up to see them, she just knew that they were there.

Eventually the car stuttered and they slowed down. Her body got gently tugged towards the left as he turned off the street and drove towards the edge of the forest where he parked.

His eyes didn't search hers this time; he exited the vehicle without a second look. Brief but blissful silence enveloped her, occasionally interrupted by odd sounds as something scraped across the back of the car, the roof and the hood. She was looking but she didn't really see. Then he opened a door, somewhere behind her. She heard him rummaging, shifting things.

Hers was next. She didn't move away from it and he seemed to have anticipated this. His left arm instantly steadied her, preventing her from falling while his right arm slipped beneath the hollow of her knees.

"Ya alright…" he said, his voice sounded uncertain as he lifted her out of the car.

Was he trying to convince her or himself?

Her head instinctively came to rest against his chest. His skin felt warm, sweaty, his heart was racing.

Wobbly steps transported her to the back of the car. His breath hit her face, heavy, strained.

But the fog that had numbed her, stopped her from reaching out to him as well. She didn't have it in her anymore to care openly, to voice concerns.

He managed to shift her onto the backseat, she didn't know how though she heard his body bumping against the car as he tried angling her as carefully as possible. The front door slammed, then he joined her on the backseat. She heard the click as he secured the doors.

"Ya not gonna eat…I know," he started, bending down to retrieve her backpack and pulling something out of it, "but ya gotta have some water at least."

Too tired to argue she accepted the bottle he pushed into her hand and took a couple of sips. She could see him nod before he stored it away again. Next, he fished out the clothes that they had found and bunched them up against the door of the car, creating a makeshift pillow.

"I'll go first," he then announced, carefully shifting her body so he could stretch out across the backseat, before pulling her down as well and into his arms.

She came to lie with her face pressed against his chest once more, his right arm wrapped around her to ensure she wouldn't slide off the edge of the seat.

"I've got you." He mumbled, his lips whispering across her forehead.

His hold on her strengthened and then loosened and a moment later his hand was caressing her back, up and down, uncertainly at first then with growing confidence. At the same time the light touch of his lips changed as he pressed kisses to her forehead now, to her temple, the tip of her nose. Any area within his reach, any area he could try and soothe like that.

She didn't register falling asleep but it must have happened just after she heard his "I've got you" for a second time.


	18. Chapter 17

Chapter 17:

Dreams chased her through the night without ever fully waking her up. There were shapes and colours swirling around in her head, figures so close to her that her hands twitched in her sleep, trying to grasp them. Her lids fluttered but remained shut. Bodiless voices, whispers, promises. They didn't let up. Restlessness infiltrated her skin, made her turn around, always bumping up against something that was firm and yet soft at the same time.

When she finally awoke she felt as if she hadn't fallen asleep at all. The heaviness of the previous day returned and weighed her down, made it impossible for her to even open her eyes. Instead she paid attention to the sounds, to the physical sensations as the world around her materialized again. Daryl's skin against her cheek, his familiar smell. His heartbeat was the first noise she perceived, steady and calming. It took a lot of energy to focus solely on it, to stop her thoughts from wandering but once she'd accomplished it, it had a surprisingly soothing effect on her. Even just a little less restlessness felt like a blessing.

Slowly she allowed herself to take in other sounds. There was a breeze outside that rattled faintly at the car doors and a scraping noise that she couldn't quite place. It had a rhythm to it though, a softness that labelled it as harmless.

Daryl's breath washed over her, tickled her hair. It felt warm just like his body, just like the sunlight that grazed her face every now and again. Odd patterns, dancing rays. Soothing even in their unpredictability.

She stayed like this for quite a while, even when she realized that he wasn't asleep anymore. There was something she was waiting for though she didn't know what it was.

Courage?

Trust?

She possessed both and yet time continued to pass. Time that he willingly gave her.

"It was my fault that Mika and Lizzie died."

In the end the words came out more evenly than she had expected. His lips met her forehead and then he nodded.

"I saw the graves. I…figured somethin' like that. I don't believe it's your fault though…"

His words made her feel miserable, sick and wrong and for a split second all of the previous day's emotions came flooding back.

How could he have such faith in her still after he had learned about Karen and David?

How could a man like him – so easily suspicious – believe that she wasn't just as capable of the atrocities most of the other survivors were?

Her skin crawled, alive with threats and warnings. But it was impossible to carry those skeletons around anymore. It was time to bare herself and leave the others to dispense judgement and punishment. She had done it with Tyreese before, surely she could do it with Daryl.

 _You're not that woman who was afraid to be alone. Not anymore._

"No, it was my fault. It was me who killed them."

He opened his mouth to contradict but she quickly continued.

"I had noticed at the prison that Lizzie wasn't right…she wasn't like the other kids. At first I thought it was the trauma, the trauma of the apocalypse, the trauma of seeing her mother turn. They were both so little still, it was only natural. But it was more than that…she was messed up, that's what Mika said. But I couldn't just abandon them, either of them, especially not when their father died and made me promise to keep them safe. They were with Tyreese and Judith...after the prison…they were the first people I encountered. I was glad…so relieved to find them alive. I hadn't failed them yet. But they were struggling out there with a baby, a baby that was hungry and sometimes cold, a baby that felt the tension in the air and yearned for someone familiar even though it couldn't know where its father had gone. She couldn't understand that her cries for attention and food could risk the safety of the whole group. Tyreese was so glad to see me. I think he expected Judith to settle down easier with a woman nearby, a mother figure. He didn't know yet about Karen and David."

She sighed deeply and began tugging at her sleeve.

"After a while we all grew tired…the house at the grove came as a blessing. At first it was only another hideout, a place to hole up for the night. But the girls liked it…there was a fence, furniture, a water pump…plenty of pecans."

She shivered.

"So the plan changed…grew into an idea for the future. Hope. Maybe risking our lives reaching Terminus wasn't necessary. The girls liked it there."

She shook her head, felt herself getting lost in memories again.

"There were signs…there were still signs…always signs that Lizzie didn't understand, that Lizzie wasn't alright. Somehow she couldn't accept that the walkers were a threat…" she paused and tilted her head up to make eye contact with him, "it was her who was feeding them rats at the prison. She thought of them as pets, perhaps…or maybe as friends…I…I just don't know…"

She lowered her gaze again.

"The next morning at the grove I looked outside and there she was being chased by a walker. My heart almost stopped. I reacted instinctively. I ran out and I killed it…she was in tears. I thought she was scared, terrified…she'd been pretty together before, I had taught her to be strong but…she wasn't…she was upset, bereft almost because I had killed that walker. She accused me of killing her friend. She said I didn't understand…"

Daryl hummed in acknowledgment and even in that single sound she could detect his concern, the same unsettling feeling that had gripped her after that scene.

"I was unnerved but also desperate to make her understand. I had promised their father and I couldn't just let it go. More walkers found us a little while later, they almost got Mika. We defended ourselves as best as we could…even Lizzie. That's…that's when I thought she had finally understood, she had seen them as the threat they were."

Her lips curled into a sad smile as she shook her head anew.

"I let down my guard…"

Another long silence followed.

She swallowed.

"Tyreese and I let them out of our sights for just a second. We didn't go far. But when we returned…we…" She stopped, unable to go on.

The images replayed themselves in her mind, a never-ending reel, even when she squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt at blocking them out. She hadn't noticed that her hand had stopped tugging on her sleeve and had started scratching at her own skin instead until Daryl gently pried it away and made her rest it on his chest instead. His makeshift bandage pressed heavily against her arm.

"Mika was dead," her voice trembled, "Lizzie had killed her. There was a knife…full of blood. She was proud, excited, told us eagerly that she had just been about to do the same to Judith. Now we'd see, now we'd finally understand that they weren't bad. She thought Mika would come back and recognize her. She had killed her own sister and she didn't even…"

Emotions overwhelmed her, brought fresh tears to her eyes that fell onto Daryl's vest and then dispelled across his bare skin. He allowed her to grieve and simply brought her closer to his body, caressing her hair, her back, her cheeks, accepting her tears without wiping them away.

"Don't blame yourself, you were trying to teach her, to show her." He said, placing a kiss on the crown of her head. "Like you showed me…"

"I killed her, Daryl. I killed Mika and then I shot Lizzie. I took her out of the house to a patch of grass where the flowers were growing. I told her to turn away from me and then I shot her in the head."

Fresh raw sobs, never-ending in their painfulness.

Then after a while a calmness overtook her. But she still felt sick and guilty at being so relieved to have finally divulged everything. Now all she could do was wait until the tears dried and he passed his judgement on her.

The silence between them stretched on. She couldn't tell if he was just waiting to see if there was more she needed to tell him or whether he had started resenting her the minute the last word had left her mouth.

The demons returned swiftly, whispering the old, familiar warnings into her ear. She knew what they wanted her to believe. But Daryl was holding her still, surely he wouldn't do that if she repulsed him.

"I'm sorry."

Those were the words she had thought but it was unexpected hearing them come out of his mouth.

"Why?" she asked, so perplexed that she turned to look at him fully.

"Cause I wish I woulda been there," he shrugged helplessly, "so I coulda helped ya and you wouldn't have felt forced to do it yourself. I woulda made sure you didn't have ta carry it on your own."

"I would've either way."

He smiled briefly and brushed a small strand of hair behind her ear.

"Of course, ya strong. You always put others before yaself."

"That's not what I meant," she interrupted, her forehead creasing into a frown.

"Yeah well, it's what I meant. And maybe that's why ya were put in that situation…no matter how fucked up that is. Cause ya the only one who could handle it."

"I thought you didn't believe in fate." She reminded him gently but he only dragged up his shoulders.

"Never said that. Said I didn't believe in luck."

There was a small triumphant glint in his eyes.

"Either way…it still says a lot about me, doesn't it?" she commented quietly and he smiled again.

"Yes, but not the kinda things ya thinkin' of. You did right by Sophia and ya did right by those girls. You always do, ya always tryin'. You don't just storm out when things ain't goin' your way. Ya ain't insulting others…" He glanced away nervously. "More than can be said for a bunch of us…"

She shifted her weight so her body came to rest against the uninjured side of his body. Then she reached up to cup his chin and made him look at her.

"You're not that man anymore either. You've grown."

"Gotta adjust nowadays, dontcha?"

She nodded and produced the first smile in ages that felt genuine, that radiated warmth right down to the tips of her toes.

And then he kissed her and it was as if their moment at the lake had never taken place; it was as if it was never meant to be her making the first move, no matter how many times she had imagined it.

There was no shyness, no clumsiness this time. It wasn't meant as a comforting gesture because words had deserted them. It was done because he loved her.

He took what he wanted while nourishing her at the same time with the gentleness with which his lips coaxed kiss after kiss out of her own.

She clung to him, refusing to part just yet, marveling at the man he had become and the woman he continued to see in her.

And slowly, the last pieces of trepidation started to ebb away until she started to see that the nightmares that had haunted her all this time hadn't simply been born out of the trauma she had experienced, but had also arisen out of the fear of letting go, of forgetting.

She had felt that Mika and Lizzie had come as a punishment because she had released Sophia and refused to talk about her again.

So afterwards she had felt that it was her duty to carry the legacy of all those little children inside her, so that they wouldn't be forgotten.

But it was alright…it was alright now to wave them goodbye with Daryl by her side. Lost to the world and their parents, but not forgotten.


	19. Chapter 18

**A/N: Almost at the end! 2 more chapters and an Epilogue! Thanks for reading! :)**

Chapter 18:

One more day they spent in the car before their great journey to find a new home began. In that one day they talked more than they had ever done before about Sophia, Mika, Lizzie, about Beth and Merle.

More tears inevitably flowed but she accepted them now, accepted the importance of shedding them.

Daryl didn't cry but he grieved in his own way and in his words she recognized the deep sadness that came hand in hand with a profound loss.

Sometimes they laughed, building each other up with stories of the people they most missed now so that it felt – if only for a moment – that they were with them in the car; smiling, benevolent spectators.

They kissed and touched more, comfortable with each other but with a hint of excitement that beckoned to be explored further once they were ready to. They didn't discuss their feelings. It still seemed unnecessary when it was so blatantly obvious.

For a couple of days after Daryl had swept the branches away that he had used to cover the car with and they set had off to Augusta, Carol fell silent again. Her body felt less heavy now that she had confided in Daryl but the sadness was so strong sometimes that she just couldn't speak. She communicated, of course, when it became important to and she found other ways to let him know that she wasn't pushing him away. And she loved him even more for his ability to simply accept and give her space.

Over the following weeks they established their own routines. Disappointments in Augusta and Columbia had taught them how to scout out an area efficiently, even when you only had one more person to rely on. And more importantly they had learned how to make a snapshot judgement on a new area, particularly one that happened to be inhibited by people. But they had been shaped so much by their past experiences that no place they encountered was ever deemed safe enough. Only each other.

As the time passed Daryl's bruises faded and his ribs healed well enough for him to discard the bandages he had constantly refreshed. Carol's face showed no more injuries either although her right shoulder blade remained stiff and painful but not bad enough to stop her functioning.

Their progress was slow but steady, filled with detours and stops along the way. There was nothing driving them forward other than the need to survive and Daryl's desire to find clues as to Beth's whereabouts although the likelihood became smaller when they left Georgia behind. Neither of them mentioned it but both of them knew.

They stayed at the coast for a bit in small villages that posed very little threat but when the weather turned moodier they were driven further inland again.

Carol had got so used to falling asleep in his arms and waking up in them that she was beginning to wonder if they needed to return to civilization at all. They were safer in numbers, that much was certain, but numbers also brought an unpredictability with it that they would never be exposed to if they just stuck with each other.

It was on the day that she began pondering the necessity of society that she became separated from Daryl and discovered by two other people.

They had spent their morning scavenging for food and gas for their truck when a group of walkers had come between them and forced them to run in opposite directions. That plan had been established long ago. In a case like this they were to scatter and reunite at the truck when they had shaken the threats.

Of course she had hoped that it would never happen. She was concerned enough about Daryl's safety when he was within eyesight but the feeling of helplessness that overtook her when even that connection was severed was far worse. She constantly had to resist the urge to look over her shoulder to try and track him down, or turn around altogether, fighting her way back through the walkers to ensure he was alright. They trusted each other more than anyone else; now it was time to have faith in each other's skills as well.

Her escape path took her out of the village and into the forest where she paused long enough to assess if she was still being followed. Her rushed breathing was the only sound for a moment until a twig broke nearby and she started running once more.

Suddenly snarls filled the air again and followed her while she continued her mad dash through the forest.

After a while she paused and turned, ready to examine the situation from a distance. It looked like they had succeeded in scattering the group of walkers. From her spot behind a tree she could only make out two figures stumbling across the loamy earth.

Melting against the tree she kept watch and calmed her breathing so that it wouldn't give her away anymore. A couple of minutes passed. When the sounds drew closer she quickly got rid of the first walker, and managed to free her knife from its skull just in time to kill the second one.

"Impressive, you look like you know what you're doing!"

The unfamiliar male voice startled her so much that her hand went instinctively to the colt on her belt while she whirled around.

The man who had spoken wasn't alone and his companion seemed to have noticed her movement as well.

 _People are the real threat. Make them think you don't mean trouble._

Thefamiliar forced smile returned to her face with such ease that it was frightening.

"Oh," she chuckled, "beginners luck, really."

The two men exchanged a look and then stepped closer.

"I'm sorry if we've startled you. My name is Aaron," the taller one introduced himself, "and this is my partner Eric."

"Nice to meet you."

The smile reached her cheeks but not her eyes.

"Are you all alone out here?"

Carol hesitated. How long had it been since her and Daryl had been forced to split up? Had he already made it back to the truck? Could she risk lying to them or would he emerge any second blowing her cover?

But before she got the chance to make up her mind, Aaron spoke again. "It's personal information, we understand."

"It's just we thought you might be with that other group we've been follow-" Eric started but it was obvious that he had said too much because he promptly received an elbow in the ribs by his partner.

"You've been following another group?" she frowned and her fingers inched towards the colt again. "Why?"

Aaron sighed, gave his partner another disapproving look before smiling at her reassuringly.

"It isn't what it sounds like…Eric and I come from a place…a safe place. We're out here trying to recruit people to join our settlement. We just need to make sure we can trust them first."

"And that group seems trustworthy?" she interrupted him.

"We believe so." Aaron nodded. "They even have a baby that they are trying to keep safe. Only problem is that there's been a drought here…they're in a pretty beaten up shape. We've just left them some water…we'll see if they'll accept it."

But Carol had stopped paying attention the minute they had mentioned the baby.

"Is there a boy with a Sherriff's hat? A woman with a katana?"

Another look was exchanged, then they nodded slowly.

"Yes, they seem to follow a man called Rick."

All at once Carol's fingers relaxed and she closed her eyes. "Oh thank God…"

"Do you know them?" Aaron asked and her smile was genuine when she answered: "Yes, I was part of their group."

"Perfect! Then you can help us talk to them, can't you?" Eric asked enthusiastically but Aaron shook his head. "Can't she?"

"If she wants," Aaron nodded.

Carol's eyes shifted from one man to the other but she remained silent. She wasn't going to make any promises that might risk the safety of the group.

"Where did you see them last?" she asked instead, turning her back to them and starting to walk back towards the village.

"A few miles down the road," Aaron answered and she was pleased to hear that they were following her.

"And that place you're from…where is that?"

"We can't give you the exact location until we're sure you're trustworthy as well."

Carol paused and turned to smile at them over her shoulder.

"I really couldn't harm a soul. No need to worry about me."

"It's a while away," Aaron answered vaguely, "we have cars and if we were to drive without interruption we could get there by nightfall."

She nodded and continued until the outlines of the first buildings came into view alongside a handful of staggering corpses.

 _At least they aren't feasting_ , she thought, _at least Daryl seems to be safe._

The relief was only short-lived however when footsteps and sounds behind her suddenly indicated a scuffle. She turned around quickly, her hand going to her knife this time. But there were no walkers, only Daryl who seemed to have sneaked up on them.

His arm was wrapped around Eric's torso, the point of his blade digging into his skin.

"Let her go," he growled.

"A friend of yours?" Aaron asked, only briefly taking his eyes off them to glance at her; his smile was forced and twitchy.

"I'm alright," she nodded at Daryl, "please let him go. I was just coming to find you."

Daryl only reluctantly released his hold and readied his crossbow instead while Eric tumbled into the arms of his partner.

"Could've mentioned she had a boyfriend…" the red-haired man muttered while Carol bridged the distance between her and Daryl.

"Ya alright?" Daryl asked again, running his hands over her shoulders and arms to check for damage.

Apparently he was confused that she would trust strangers so willingly.

"Yes," she confirmed, giving him a soft smile and his hands a gentle squeeze, "they have a community somewhere and were out scouting for people. They were following Rick and the others."

Disbelief washed over his face that quickly mingled with hope, then doubt.

"Could be lyin',"he muttered under his breath and she nodded.

"Could be…but they knew some facts including his name. It would be a big coincidence."

He hummed and glanced at them.

"Could've been followin' us instead…heard us talkin'. Could be a trap."

She squeezed his hands again and tried giving him a reassuring smile.

"I know. I don't think it is…And I don't think you could live with yourself knowing you might've missed an opportunity to reunite with them. They're your family."

"Yours too," he nodded but she shrugged.

Rick's words still lingered in her mind and as much as she wanted to make sure they were alright, as much she dreaded their reaction when they would see her.

Slowly Daryl lowered his bow. "What's that community like?"

"It's big…big enough…we've got walls…food. We want to rebuild something again…together." Aaron answered.

"Who's your leader?" Daryl asked "Gotta have one…"

"Her name's Deanna…but it's really a democracy."

Daryl's expression grew skeptical.

"We have photos," Eric offered quickly, "they aren't the best quality but…"

He began rummaging in his partner's backpack and then hesitantly stepped closer carrying a small bundle. Daryl snatched it out of his hands and tore it open and doubtfully he and Carol began examining the photos.

They seemed like something from another world. A world left untouched by decay, a world where big family homes still had a place, a world that felt almost too safe.

Pushing the photos back into the envelope, Daryl then tossed it at the men.

"What do you want in return?"

"Your honesty…trust," Aaron smiled carefully, "we need each other now more than ever. And we need people like you who've been out here…who know what has really happened."

Daryl scoffed and exchanged another look with Carol.

"We would love to join you." Carol announced, feigning enthusiasm and ignoring Daryl's bewildered look.

"Alright then…one of you stays with Eric and the other one accompanies me?"

"Oh hell no!" Daryl snapped. "You ain't splittin' us up."

"Look, I'm sorry. I know what that sounds like. But Eric and I…we don't approach people together. We don't think it'd go down well with your people. The bigger the group, the bigger the perceived threat."

"Well, they know us. Why not let both of us come with you then?" Carol asked Aaron although she already knew the answer.

"He's my partner," Eric explained for him, "I don't know you yet and I can't take the risk of leaving him alone with the both of you. He," he nudged his head in Daryl's direction, "didn't like it either when he saw you alone with us."

Carol nodded and turned towards Daryl again.

"You go with Aaron. Rick will be pleased to see you."

His expression darkened and he stubbornly shook his head.

"You know I'm right. This is our best shot at a future."

She cupped his cheek, trying to shake off the awkwardness she felt at being watched for the first time during an intimate gesture.

"Fine…" he sighed frustrated and walked towards Aaron and Eric, "but if you even look at her the wrong way I'll kill ya."


	20. Chapter 19

Chapter 19:

Before Daryl joined Aaron he returned to the pick-up truck where he handed Carol the keys.

"If you notice anything funny goin' on you take him out, alright?" he muttered and she nodded. "I dunno how long it'll take us to persuade Rick but if I'm not back in three days we meet back up at that old church we slept in yesterday, okay?"

She nodded once more in acknowledgement and then tugged him closer.

"I'm going to be fine. You just worry about yourself."

"Nine lives?" he asked, his hands coming to automatically rest on her hips.

The sentiment made her chuckle before she leaned in and briefly captured his lips.

"Nine lives. I'll see you soon."

Reluctantly he tore himself away and marched towards Aaron and Eric who had possessed enough decency to keep their backs turned, giving them a little privacy.

"Alright…I'm ready….let's go."

* * *

Their drive passed in relative quiet with Aaron occasionally trying to initiate a conversation but Daryl stubbornly remaining silent. And when they eventually reached the spot that Aaron had chosen to park at, he needed to prompt Daryl to leave the car.

"Why here?" he questioned suspiciously, freeing his knife from its holster. "Rick and the others ain't around."

"Exactly," Aaron replied with a nervous smile, "I don't mean to offend you but you haven't done this before. There's a procedure we follow."

"Oh…oh my bad, man, I didn't know there was a procedure." Daryl commented dryly, rolling his eyes.

But Aaron remained calm and pulled his pack from the backseat.

"Your group looks really worn out…I don't know what caused you to become separated but it looks like they've been out on the road for a while. They're tired, hungry…defensive. I don't think driving towards them would go down well."

"What's the plan then, huh?" Daryl demanded, scanning the area for threats.

"First, we go and check if they've accepted our water bottles….that should tell us how much hostility we should reckon with."

"Fuck hostility. They know me! They ain't gonna do somethin' stupid."

"Maybe not with you," Aaron shrugged, shouldering his backpack, "but I'm not so sure about me. My job is to recruit them and that means I need to leave a positive first impression. I'm sure you agree."

Daryl muttered something unintelligible under his breath but followed him nonetheless.

"What happens if they didn't take the water?" he asked after a while of walking.

Aaron hummed uncertainly. "They looked really thirsty…"

"Don't matter," Daryl insisted, "they know better than to trust a stranger…especially a gesture like this. You might have your procedure but you ain't smart. Any dumbass can see that that's gonna be a trap."

"But it isn't!" Aaron prevailed firmly, cutting across a field to reach the last stretch of forest that was still separating them from the road he had deposited the bottles at.

"Yeah but they don't know that. It sure as hell looks like one. They won't have taken it."

Uncomfortable silence enveloped them once more as they continued walking towards the road.

In the end it was just like Daryl had predicted. The water bottles still stood in a row, completely untouched except for one which lay tipped over next to them, half of its content spilled out and already evaporated.

Daryl frowned and wondered who'd have been stupid or desperate enough to take a sip.

"So now what?" he prompted again, taking a couple of bottles and stashing them in his pants pockets.

Aaron sighed tiredly and rubbed his face.

"We take these back to the car…shame to waste them. Then we have to locate the group again and find a way of approaching them that won't get me instantly killed."

By the time they had deposited most of the bottles in the car – Aaron kept a few in his backpack to offer to the group again – evening was falling and a quickly developing storm caught them by surprise. They were forced to ride it out in the car as there was no other shelter nearby but when it didn't let up for quite a while, Aaron voiced what Daryl had been thinking all along.

"It's going to be difficult finding them after this."

"Only bet would be scanning the area for buildings," Daryl offered with a shrug, "that's what they'll have done."

Night came and went and stretched out uncomfortably across the front seats of the car, Daryl couldn't help his thoughts wandering to Carol.

Had they managed to hole up somewhere?

Was Eric treating her well?

It was the first night that he had to spend without the warmth of her body pressed against his and it felt foreign and unsettling. It rattled him so much that he didn't manage to fall asleep, although he chose to blame this on his general state of alertness when thrown together with a stranger.

"Are you up?" Aaron's voice came from the backseat and with a grunt Daryl pulled himself into a sitting position.

"Have been for ages."

"Shall we try and find them then? Looks like the worst of the storm has passed."

Daryl nodded and climbed outside where the weather had left a visible trail of destruction. Branches had been twisted and broken and the ground was soaked through. Maybe there'd be footprints still but Daryl didn't like their odds.

Silently they set off, each of them focused on the task at hand. Daryl could tell that Aaron wasn't used to it; his eyes were always directed ahead, scanning the area between the trees for movement. He hadn't learned yet to look for other signs. And as the morning wore on he also noticed how easily Aaron tired, how unaccustomed he was to long treks without a decent meal in between. If those were the kind of luxuries they could expect at the community, Daryl wasn't sure he wanted them, he couldn't afford to want them. But despite all of his shortcomings Aaron never once complained and that was something Daryl could appreciate.

"Group of people went that way," he voiced after a while when the sun had already started to rise.

They had stopped at the edge of the road where a trail of trampled down grass seemed to indicate the path they had taken.

"Are you sure?" Aaron asked with a curious smile.

"Nope," he shrugged, "but it looks like a buncha people came this way."

"It's our only lead," Aaron agreed and set off through the forest.

They followed the group's trace as best as they could but when they encountered a couple of scattered but dead walkers, Daryl put up his hand.

"You got a weapon?"

"Mmh…" Aaron nodded, producing a gun.

"Somethin' other than that? Causes too much noise." He explained, impatiently readying his bow.

"Got a flare gun?"

"Great," he commented dryly, advancing with great caution.

It was only a matter of time before more walkers emerged from behind the trees but their approach was slow as they seemed to have been injured by the storm as well. Daryl signaled for Aaron to stay back and quickly disposed of the threats. Then he waved to make him follow him once more.

It wasn't long before they discovered the barn that was at the edge of the forest and bordering on one of the many fields they had crossed before. Daryl took one look at it and knew that Rick and the others had found shelter there. He pointed and Aaron understood.

"Shall we go knock?"

Daryl's face turned into a frown and he shook his head. "If they're really as hostile as you say, they ain't gonna take well to someone knockin'. I know I said earlier that they won't attack me but approachin' by car's different…they can see who's comin'. Here they have no clue, they're cornered…I ain't takin' a risk of catchin' no bullet either. Let's hang around for a while till they come out."

"You know them very well," Aaron smiled and walked alongside him to look for a good place to wait at.

"Been with 'em since shit hit the fan," Daryl shrugged, "but that don't matter…is always the same out here now."

The other man nodded, taking it all in and then suddenly reached to grasp his arms.

"Wait…there…" he pointed and Daryl looked up to see two figures near the field, "strangers or part of the group?"

Daryl shielded his eyes against the sunlight and took a couple of steps towards them.

"Part of the group…"

"What are their names?" Aaron asked curiously, already taking several more steps in their direction.

"Sasha and Maggie…" Daryl told him absent-mindedly, wondering why they had chosen an open space over the safety of the group.

When his thoughts returned to the present he noticed that Aaron was no longer by his side. He saw the trepidation in the women's faces, the quick way in which they readied their weapons and so he hurriedly jogged closer.

"What did I tell you?" he growled at Aaron who only sheepishly dragged up his shoulders.

"Was just introducing myself."

"Daryl?"

His name echoed between the two women, then Maggie flew into his arms. He returned the embrace awkwardly and kept his eyes on Sasha who smiled briefly but with that sense of emptiness that he had previously seen in Carol.

Had Terminus rattled her so much?

Or which losses had they suffered?

"So you two know each other?" Maggie asked, slipping out of his arms again.

Aaron and Daryl exchanged a look and shrugged.

"We met yesterday. Carol got curious when he talked about a group they were trackin'."

Maggie's face changed from surprise to suspicion and Sasha asked the question they both seemed to be thinking.

"What are you doing tracking us?"

"I'm part of a community not too far from here. We're trying to find people to join us, people who've lived in this world. I saw you and had no choice but to follow you. I'm sure you know how risky it is to blindly trust people nowadays."

"And what? Now we've passed your test?" Sasha scoffed and Aaron smiled.

"Yes, I'd like to talk to Rick if that's alright."

Both women looked at Daryl who put up his hands.

"I ain't vouchin' for him. I came to see ya…figured Rick oughta make up his mind."

Sasha and Maggie nodded and then turned and headed back towards the barn.

"Got caught in the storm?" Daryl asked, walking alongside them.

"Yes," Maggie confirmed, "at first we were relieved that it rained…we were so thirsty…"

"Could've taken the water I've left you." Aaron chimed in but the smile on his face quickly died when Maggie fixed him with a stern look.

"We don't know you. Anyway, rain changed to a storm, so we needed shelter."

She paused and let her eyes sweep over the yard in front of the barn that contained an assortment of dead or at least incapacitated walkers.

"Was a crazy night…"

"Looks like it," Daryl acknowledged and waited for her to open the doors.

Inside, the barn had just started to come alive. People were at varying stages of wakefulness, some were changing their clothes, others checking their weapons. But their arrival brought all that to a halt.

"Look who we've found!" Maggie announced with tired enthusiasm and even the last set of eyes that hadn't been on them before, were so now.

"Daryl?"

His name went around the space in a whisper, then they seemed to notice that he wasn't alone.

"Who's your friend?" Rick asked, stalking closer like a worn out but suspicious caged animal.

"Ain't no friend of mine. His name is Aaron. He's got an offer to make to y'all."

Rick nodded pensively and then ordered Maggie to search him. They removed his backpack, searched it and eventually tossed it on the ground. Then they patted him up and down and eventually stepped back shaking their heads.

Aaron looked terrified but put on a dazzling smile to cover it up.

"I'm Aaron and I appreciate you letting me talk to you, Rick."

Daryl could see everyone growing more tense and sighed inwardly.

"I belong to a community in Alexandria and I've been watching you and your group. You're extraordinary, to be honest. You stick together, you discuss strategies, you act like a family."

Rick nodded and fingered the colt on his belt. "That's cause we are."

"Well," Aaron reinforced his smile, "that's the kind of people we'd like to welcome to our community. We need people who are smart, that have been out here and survived but also people who are loyal and look out for each other. I'm sorry that I haven't approached you sooner but I had to make sure first, you must understand."

"Mmh," Rick hummed, studying him thoughtfully. "Where's that community?"

"I can't tell you but I can show you, if you and your people are willing to follow me. We've got walls and warm water and food. Your baby would be better off there."

At the mention of his daughter Rick's shoulders squared and he took a step closer.

"I…I've got photos in my backpack…if you want to see for yourself…They're not the best quality but-"

He didn't get any further because a second later Rick's fist collided with his face and he went out cold.

"Somebody tie him up! Let's hear the whole story!"


	21. Chapter 20

Chapter 20:

Carol's breathing came ragged and chased. She wasn't used to spending her time with someone so utterly inapt at surviving. Most of the people they had encountered since being out on the road had learned how to cope with walkers, had learned how to cope outside alone.

Eric's clumsiness and attachment to such ordinary things as license plates took her back to the very beginning and the many mistakes they had made. If she had to summarise the experience in one word it was tiring. She couldn't count on Eric to have her back and was constantly forced to be watchful.

Still, he wasn't a child or one of her guardians and so she saw no reason to stop him when he got the ridiculous idea of putting his life on the line for the sake of some old piece of metal. But she did follow him to keep an eye on things…just in case.

One night had passed and a second one was just beginning to fall and there was still no sign of Daryl or Aaron. In the meantime, Eric and her had been cooped up together with very little to say. Perhaps he really just needed something to distract him from the never-ending thoughts of concern and fear. She could sympathise with that.

The idea itself remained a stupid one nonetheless. The noise he was making soon drew the attention of a group of walkers and before they knew it they had to make a run for it. She fought them off as best as she could, always thinking about Daryl and how enraged he would be if he knew how Eric had risked their lives like that.

It was while they were on the run that Carol noticed just how dangerous Eric's fear and inexperience made him. He had no stamina and he was so scared that he stumbled and tripped over his own feet.

She turned around then and tried backtracking but another handful of walkers had shown up and were making it impossible. She stood in the middle of the darker growing street, caught between saving herself and risking her life to save his, half expecting to hear those anguished screams again. But instead something unexpected happened: a flash of bright red light flared up and dug itself into one of the walkers' skulls, followed closely by a second one that illuminated the night sky.

The remaining walkers stayed where they were, staring dumbfounded up to the red sparkling light, momentarily distracted. And Carol reacted instinctively. She raced back to the car under which Eric had sought shelter and dragged him out.

"We have to hide somewhere else," she whispered anxiously and he nodded, leaning onto her for support.

"You go ahead, I can't run and I won't let you die for my stupidity."

Her glance fell onto his foot and she noticed instantly that it stood at an awkward angle. But she knew now that she could trust him and so abandoning him was not an option.

"I'll help you," she told him determinedly and wrapping an arm around him started leading him away.

It wasn't long before the snarls returned behind them.

"This is going to hurt." Was all she could tell him before she increased her pace and dragged him along and into the nearest building where she sat him down on the floor before hurriedly securing the door.

When she turned around to him again she could see that he was as pale as a sheet and close to passing out.

"I'm sorry," she smiled ruefully, "I know your ankle must be in terrible pain but we wouldn't have made it otherwise."

"Don't apologise," he replied and gave her a weak smile that seemed to drain his last bit of energy, "you just saved my life."

"I couldn't just abandon you." She explained with her housewife-y smile and then sank down to examine his injury.

* * *

In the end she didn't know how long they remained locked away in the deserted building. It could've been hours or minutes – impossible to tell unless you carried a watch on your belt – but she was surprised to see that a new day hadn't already begun when she eventually stuck her head outside to check if the area was clear.

Eric had finally fallen asleep but she hadn't been able to. Daryl had promised her to meet soon, had told her to take off if he hadn't returned within three days. Now it was almost time and her worries threatened to eat her alive.

Where the hell was he? And what the hell had happened?

She was just about to slide the door closed again when the first gun shots rang through the air. Flinching she reached for her colt and peered into the dark. More gun shots, then everything went quiet. A second later another flare lit up the sky, just like the one Eric had used.

She glanced back inside the building where Eric was still sleeping and then made up her mind. Cocking her weapon she stepped outside, drew the door shut and began jogging down the street and towards the direction the gunfire seemed to have emanated from. There were footsteps all around her and muffled voices. Somebody was cursing. The bushes whispered and branches broke and then a herd emerged from the forest. She aimed the gun higher and then suddenly relaxed.

"Everything alright?" she smiled at Daryl's sweaty face and he nodded in return.

"Sorry for all the commotion," Rick returned, wiping his forehead, "we ran into some trouble."

The eye contact between them was strained and uncomfortable and Carol's attempts at searching for something to say were interrupted by Aaron.

"Is he okay? I saw his flare!"

"Walkers," she smiled and shrugged, "he twisted his ankle but he's alright. We were hiding out in that building."

She paused and pointed.

"Oh thank God," Aaron breathed and squeezed her shoulder in passing before heading off to see his partner.

"You think we can trust 'em alone together?" Rick asked, staring pensively after Aaron's retreating form.

Carol glanced at Daryl and they both shrugged.

"Might as well if we're following them to Alexandria."

"We could all use a rest though," Glenn chimed in, wrapping his arm around Maggie.

"That hall is big enough. Go ahead."

And then they all emerged from the forest, the family that she had thought to have lost. Glenn and Maggie, Rick, Carl and Judith, Sasha and Michonne. But there were also terrible gaps for which there could only be one explanation. No Tyreese, no Bob and unfortunately also no Beth. There were new faces in their stead. They all looked tired and eyed her just as warily as she eyed them but Carol believed them to be trustworthy if Rick had chosen to let them join.

They made a beeline for the hall but the others all stopped by to embrace her. For that she was more grateful than they could ever know and yet…and yet there was a lingering tension whenever she glanced at Rick.

"Ya alright?" Daryl checked as well and she automatically leaned into the familiar warmth of his body, giving his arm a squeeze.

"Mmh…much better now. Now go get some sleep."

He hummed and shrugged and then glanced towards Rick. "I think he wants a word with you."

She let Daryl go and approached the other man with trepidation which she hoped wasn't too visible. To make up for it she straightened her spine and tilted her chin up ever so slightly. She didn't want to appear hostile but she also wanted to make it clear that she wouldn't let him walk all over her again.

"Daryl said you wanted a word?"

Rick hummed and shifted, hands on his belt; an uneasy stand-off.

"Yeah," he finally nodded, "Tyreese told me what you did. Said you came just in time to save my daughter…twice."

"I heard a baby cry," she shrugged, "I did what I had to do."

"It's appreciated," he smiled strained, looking tired, "more than you know."

She tried mirroring his smile and watched the rest of the group slip into the hall.

"He also told me that you had told him about Karen and David…"

"I had to," she sighed, "he deserved to handle the situation as he saw fit."

"And he proved me wrong again," Rick nodded, "you proved me wrong."

"I didn't expect him to forgive me either." Carol admitted quietly.

"He knew you, he knew you better than I did although he'd only just met you. My actions could've killed you and I'm sorry."

Carol wrapped her arms around herself and marveled at the still unfamiliar sensation of a man apologizing to her.

"You made a judgement call and I did the same…in the end we both just did what we thought to be in the best interest for the group."

Rick sighed anew and his hands relaxed, then he stepped towards her and pulled her into his embrace.

"I'm so glad to find you alive."

Carol gave his body a squeeze before retreating.

"Me too. We thought we'd lost you all. When we arrived at Terminus…we…"

"It was terrible. We were all shepherded into this trap despite taking precautions. When I arrived with Carl and Michonne and saw the watch Hershel had given Glenn on someone else…I just knew that we'd made a mistake. We opened fire but they had the advantage. They locked us away in one of those goddamn carriages…we met Glenn there and Maggie and Ty and Judith. It was a relief seeing them because I knew that we stood a chance again…we could fight our way out of there…especially since Glenn had met Abe and the others on the road….so we had extra manpower."

Carol listened quietly, trying to match the name to one of the new faces.

"We prepared and prepared but in the end it was no good. They took Glenn and I and some others …were gonna slaughter us like pigs."

"We saw," Carol replied darkly, "we saw all those halls and all the things they'd taken off you. How did you get out of there in the end?"

Rick scoffed and shook his head.

"Pure dumb luck. We were about to be slaughtered…there was no way out. Then suddenly we heard gunfire. It distracted our capturers but not long enough for us to act. But then the explosion came and we took over. When we emerged from the building we encountered a battle field. Shots were fired all around us. This gang of people was fighting against the people of Terminus, walkers started infiltrating the grounds….chaos. So we took off, we ran back to the carriage, freed our people and tried to run. Bob had Judith when he got bitten….we didn't have the time to amputate. He deteriorated soon…we found shelter at Father Gabriel's church and Sasha put him out of his misery."

Carol nodded and smiled comfortingly. There was always a sense of failure when they couldn't save one of their group and always a sense of loss, no matter how long they'd known each other.

"Daryl lost Beth," she offered, "he was with her after the prison…they stuck together until their place got overrun. They were separated then and Beth was abducted."

"He told me," Rick replied, looking suddenly much older and much more tired, "and I had to tell him that we saw her die…"

"So she was taken to Terminus?" Carol asked, remembering the altar room and the crosses on the car Daryl had mentioned.

"No…we never saw her there. We were at the church….wondering where to go next….Abraham and his crew were on a mission and burning to go elsewhere but my people…they weren't well. We were tired, hunted, hungry…I decided to stay…next day while Abraham and the rest took off, we went on a run and we met this kid, Noah. He was in a state of panic, very hostile, dying to run. When we pinned him down he told us he needed to get back to Atlanta to help a friend called Beth who had helped him escape from this confined community. We pressed him for more information and what he told us was so shocking…so similar to the governor that we got our weapons and headed back to Atlanta with him. We had a strategy and it would've worked…it could've worked…but in the end…" he shook his head, his hands balled so tightly that his knuckles turned white "Dawn…their leader refused to play ball. She forced our hand…demanded to keep Noah although that wasn't part of the deal. It was Beth who killed her…it all happened so fast, "he stopped and rubbed his face, "one moment her face twisted into a grimace, the next a gun went off and Beth was dead. We were shell-shocked…most of all Maggie, of course. Noah stayed with us….reckon he felt guilty…"

Carol thought back to the previous moment when the kid had emerged from the forest. His shoulders sloped, his eyes directed to the ground. Her heart ached for them, all of them but most of all Daryl. It certainly explained why he'd looked so beaten. If only they had their privacy still, if only she could talk to him.

"Wandered around after that," Rick eventually continued, "Noah wanted to check on his family…but his neighbourhood was overrun, everyone dead…and Tyreese got bitten. We amputated his arm but it was too late. That happened a week ago…shook us all…"

He closed his mouth, then opened it only to close it again. It seemed he had run out of words to express their misery.

She felt lead in the pit of her stomach. The old, numbing emptiness that came with a particularly painful loss. Tears were pooling in her eyes but she hurriedly blinked them away. Instead, she tried telling herself that Tyreese was at peace now but it didn't replace the hollow feeling inside. Another sweet, kind and strong soul lost but forever living on in the grief written all over Sasha's face.

"I'm sorry," Rick hugged her again and then they began walking back towards the hall as well.

"He was better than me…I wish that would've been enough."

Rick nodded in sympathy and understanding and allowed the silence between them to expand.

The low hum of voices in the hall came as a stark contrast but still wordlessly they went their separate ways. Rick secured the door and then settled down with his children, Michonne, Glenn and Maggie who were sharing some of the food Aaron and Eric had brought while Carol passed those who preferred to remain alone, passed the newcomers and the couple that was checking up on each other's injuries until she found Daryl and lied down by his side.

There were a million thoughts running through her mind – pieces of the puzzle that were still missing, that needed further explanations; a million things she wanted to say to comfort him but he wouldn't let her in front of everyone else, he wouldn't even let himself feel it yet. So she stared up at the dark ceiling, coming to terms with the fresh grief and settled for holding his hand.


	22. Epilogue

**A/N: This is it, I suppose! The Epilogue is up. I hope you've enjoyed following their story and thank you so much to all of you who took the time to review and those that have been with this story since the beginning! Thank you! :)**

Epilogue:

Their trip to Alexandria took longer and was more tiring than she had expected. Perhaps it was because the mood of the group was so low and tense and nobody was certain if they were being led into another trap.

Carol remembered feeling anxious at the sight of the giant walls once they all filed out of the various vehicles, as if the structure that was meant to keep them safe was more threatening and confining.

When meeting the first people of Alexandria she clung to the persona she had formed at the initial encounter with Aaron and Eric until the smile hurt her face. At least when she was asked to hand over Tyreese's machine gun she didn't have to make herself grimace in pain; the weapon grazing her injured shoulder-blade did it by itself.

Normalcy came like a shock to the system. Big, safe houses, the freedom to walk a number of steps without fearing an attack, warm water and soft beds…they were all so unfamiliar. What she was supposed to enjoy and revel in made her feel anything but relaxed. The shower she took because it was impossible to remember what it felt like to be clean, but the bed she resisted and instead joined the others on the floor of the house they shared. Funny how something that had been deemed unusual in a previous life could be transformed to feel much more comfortable now.

She didn't see very much of Daryl and that she regretted. He was distrustful of everything and preferred keeping to himself while Carol and Rick were distrustful as well but chose to be practical and stick to their personas.

She didn't like it when Daryl left Alexandria with Aaron and she liked it even less when – a couple of weeks and a surprising twist later – he volunteered to become a new recruiter. She understood his desire to be away from the group and together with a man instead who wasn't likely to ask a lot of questions. But she couldn't help but wonder what had happened to their relationship and why he wasn't talking to her.

As the days went by and there was still no sign of either man's return, she found a way to persuade Sasha to share watch with her. The solitude on the walls helped clear her head that had otherwise been buzzing with questions, plans and memories until late at night.

* * *

The hours ticked by day after day until finally the long awaited sound of Daryl's new motorbike sounded. She sat up straighter, her back stiff and aching from its permanent rest against the wooden chair she had taken along to the tower. The gun between her legs threatened to slip but she grasped it just in time and bent forward.

Both men appeared to be unharmed which was a relief. She lifted one hand in a friendly wave that would've gone unseen in the dark unless you knew to look for it and she was certain that Daryl did. She saw the corner of his mouth tug into a smile and peace overcame her while she turned toward Alexandria and called: "Open the gates! They're back!"

Sasha reacted without hesitation and let them in. The sound of the motorbike died down and then the gate slammed shut again. Carol turned back the other way and tried to recapture the trail of thought she'd previously been following.

"Thought I'd see Sasha up here." His voice took her by surprise; she'd expected him to report to Deanna first.

She looked at him while he sank down on the floor by her side and noticed how exhausted he was.

"Why don't you go shower and rest?" she asked, while he continued staring into the dark.

"No point," he shrugged, "might as well spend time with you instead."

"I'm flattered," she commented dryly but grinned at him when he finally tilted his head to look at her somewhat guiltily.

She lowered herself onto the floor as well and brushed a few strands of matted down hair out of his face. Seeing his eyes drift shut and his body relax was the greatest gift he could give her.

"Do you think about her? Dream about her?" she asked eventually, not needing to say Beth's name.

"Mmh…" he hummed and slowly nodded as if struggling with this realization.

"You couldn't have stopped it even if you had been there."

"I'll always wonder," he shrugged again and she nodded.

"Of course. It's a part of you now but you'll learn how to carry it with you."

"Have you?" he questioned.

Melancholy whispered across her face and lingered in the corners of her mouth.

"Some days I have…some days I haven't. I feel it, that's what Tyreese said, and maybe that's what's most important. But letting her…letting them go is just as important. We are the living and it is our task to find the balance."

He hummed lowly and she knew that she had reached him, but she also knew that it was time to ease off now.

"I miss you." She offered instead and his lips grazed her temple.

"'m right here…"

"You know what I mean…it's different with the group…with the community…"

"Don't change how I feel about ya." He said carefully and she smiled.

"No, I suppose it doesn't."

A comfortable silence fell between them and Carol savoured it, eventually scooting closer to rest her head on his shoulder.

"I'd like to think Sophia, Mika and Lizzie are somewhere together…playing, running, being free."

"Beth was always free…freer and lighter than most of us." He voiced, wrapping an arm around her.

She smiled while both warmth and the sting of loss reverberated through her body.

Little blonde girls with flowers in their hair twirling around in the grass, their joy shining through, blocking out the horrors of the monsters they'd become. This was how they'd be remembered.


End file.
